Damien's Hunt
by Dantes-Silent-Huntress
Summary: Ashrai has been surviving the past month since the Green Flu struck alone. But when she meets Damien, he entire world is turned around, she finds herself conflicted between liking Damien and hating him for throwing her relatively calm life into chaos. T for language and minor violence. May change eventually.
1. Life goes on

**Chapter 1**

**My first L4D fic, I play the second one and love it, Xbox live anyone? xshazza96x**

**I like the idea of hunters being smart, intelligent beings, so that is what mines are, yet they treating a pack structure like wolves.**

**14/6/13 - Chapter has been updated, with spelling, grammar and plot holes being repaired as I go :) if you spot anything else that you feel should be changed, please let me know.**

**Left 4 Dead belongs to Valve, Damien and Ashrai belong to me.**

My first day in this town and I had already been attacked by a horde; startled one of those little bitch Witches; sprained my ankle then was chased by a Tank; _then_ when I found this safe house, there was a Hunter nesting under the beds, curled into a tight ball, rousing as I stormed towards him, shotgun pointed. That chased it out quickly enough. Could my day get any worse? No, don't answer that, because the inevitable would happen and my day would become marginally worse. I was propped in the corner of a quaint little flat, right in the middle of suburbia, definitely not my idea of comfort, but safe none the less. The huge thick door blocked the zombies from getting in at me and eviscerating me whilst I slept, that might slow me down a bit, and the windows had been boarded up by the previous tenants who seemed to have left, as there was no bodies left for me to clean up and burn.

The flat was alright, considering the state of the world; a little one bedroom apartment that was probably some collage students before the Green Flu began. The walls were a dull white - most likely they were painted that way when this place was built - and the carpet was a dog-poop brown, all the furniture was the same colour in either wood or a tough woollen feeling fabric. Classic I-don't-give-a-shit-about-my-house decoration or, ' I don't have enough money for personalisation.' it was comfortable enough for me though, so I wasn't complaining and to top it off, it was the first damned place with running water I had found in days. That bath was one of the best I had ever had and after an hour long soak - with two refills - I was lying, squeaky clean in my jeans and tee on the spongy mattress in the little bedroom, a furry cover pulled up over my body to keep me warm, the duvet tucked around my feet - I didn't want to get gun grease on the duvet, but the blanket was expendable. So there I was, cleaning my weapons - an assault rifle, my shotgun and my katana - which was polished with garlic oil - all prized weapons that had seen me through the previous month of the zombie apocalypse. This was how I relaxed, making sure that I would be safe and ready to kill the next day, safety was my top priority, especially since I was on my own, facing the dangers of everyday life.

I could hear the Hunter I had expelled earlier whining and snarling outside at the loss of his nest, his deep voice rumbling through the almost silent night as he stalked around outside. Occasionally, I could hear him scraping at the door, like he could claw his way through the thick metal to reach me, but I ignored it, too focused on the task at hand. He screeched once, I heard the tearing of flesh, then he went back to his low whining, like a puppy put outside In the rain.

Guns and sword cleaned, I finally decided to sleep, I would have to if I wanted to travel tomorrow without stopping to rest. I wanted to get out of this God-damned city and far away into the country as I could, towards the old military base that resided just out of town. I had been recieving radio transmissions from them for a couple of days now, but only today had I decided to seek them out, hoping to find a pocket of humanity. So, brushing my curly ebony hair away from my face, glancing once in the mirror to see the purple circles forming underneath my spring-grass eyes, standing out against the pale white of my face. My cheekbones were very prominant, but not due to starvation like most would have been encountering just now - I was incredibly lucky and conservative with food - but that was how I had always been, all sharp angles on my face and a curvy body. I knew it was time for sleep when I studied myself too hard, so I lay back down, resting my head on the feather-filled pillows and shutting my eyes, thought of all the things I had to do the next day. _Goodnight Ashrai_, I said to myself, just as the last conscious thought was sucked from my mind.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The hunter growled once more, trying to curl up on the hard stone of the roof tops. All he had as a home had been taken from him by the woman in _his_ nest, lying in his bed and no doubt ruining his lovely furred blanket with the oil from her gun cleaning kit. He could go and stay with Drew - the, sort of, pack leader for all the Hunters around this area, but decided against it. Drew was a slob and an extremely aggressive Hunter, and the alpha's six foot four muscular frame could pulverise the smaller Hunter's five foot four lithe body, even if he was a much better fighter than the bigger male. He decided to go to the warehouse where the group usually hung out.

Taking to all fours, the Hunter sprung across the rooftops, stretching his body into a full on gallop across the ground, leaping over gaps then landing solidly on the building at the other side, taking off towards the water-front.

"_Damien!" _Squealed one of the females, almost bowling him of his feet with a hug, Damien just shrugged her off, clawing at her. Liara was a pest and on more than one occasion she had offered herself to him, but he had politely declined every time. Well, almost every time. He wanted to wait until he found a female who could at least match him with skills, something worthy of carrying his pups. The wonders of being a dominant male among the huge pack, a choice of any of the females that proved themselves.

This was the only place that the Hunters could be safe from all the rest of the infected, safe to show themselves like they were. Damien tugged his black hood down, revealing crimson hair (surprisingly, his natural colour, nothing was enhanced by his 'death') that was tightly braided down to his waist, his grey-blue eyes glinting in the moonlight, many of the male Hunters would say that the long hair made him look feminine, but all who said that had been slaughtered, strung out and castrated for the rest of the group, in a clear message that stated: _Doubt my masculinity, and this is what happens_. He knew that even with his waist-length hair, he could be mistaken for nothing but pure male, there was far too much testosterone that the others could smell, and his body - although very thin - was solid and sculpted, clothes clinging to the outline of him. His black jeans clung to his strong thighs and calves, molding to him, his three belts clinking against each other as he strode towards a seperate group. The big black boots that he wore were splattered with mud and ancient blood, permenantly stained into the soft leather, clogging in the buckles that wrapped around them at his ankle. His sweater was black, nothing more, plain black with silver studs across his shoulders, glimmering with lunar light. He was one of the shortest Hunters there, and the smallest male at that, but his body relied on his speed and agility to win his fights, along with a terrible viscious streak that couldn't be rivalled by any of the others. He was the perfect specimen, minus the height of course.

He stayed for hours, meeting with the others that he once ran with, the elders whom he had curled into for safety before he learned to fight, only a few weeks ago. The change in him was amazing, from a frightened little pup, to a brave, strong and highly respected Hunter. When the first bright rays crept over the dark horizon, he knew it was time to move, to go back to his own nest and kill that pesky woman who had stolen his home. Damien growled at the thought of her, all warm and comfortable in a bed that didn't belong to her. He absently wondered if she had found the collection of bones under the bed that he kept as trophies from his kill. As he neared, a shriek told him that she had. Oops.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Shit! That was a cemetary worth of bones underneath the bed. The same bed that I had been sleeping in all night! This truly was a Hunter's nest, damned beast needed a lesson in cleaning up his mess, but a bullet between his eyes would suffice. Said Hunter was now outside from what I could hear, ferocious noises coming from his throat, probably curses in his Hunter language. Did I care? Not really. He could scream everything he wanted, but I wasn't going to move until I needed to, which was soon. Stretching out, I winced as my ankle creaked in protest, well, nothing I could do, I needed to be on the move soon.

That was when I heard it, the Hunter had obviously managed to get through the door, or a window and was clattering through to get to the bedroom. Scrambling up, I reached for my shotgun, only to find that a sharp set of claws had beaten me to it, snatching the weapon off of the table beside the bed and lobbing it through the broken doorway into the diminuitive hallway. Uh-oh. Close-quarters combat training 101, he leaped at me, but at the last second I stepped to the side and caught a blow to his chest as he passed. Stumbling, he whipped back round, roaring at me and snapping those dagger-sharp teeth at me in fury. I just smirked at him, one hand on my hip, mocking him with a fake little purr, sure I acted brave, but inside, I was terrified, just one wrong move and he would kill me. Not could, _would_, but then I would just be some more bones in his ever-growing pile. Noticing for the first time, I really looked at what I could see of his face, his teeth were pearly, although blood was dried around his gums. His face had that greyish tint that they all had, but his lips were pink and plump, his eyes - a pale silvery-grey colour were not cloudy, but bright and challenging and _furious_. He was absolutely livid that I was fighting back, with bare hands - maybe he wasn't used to his food biting back.

He took my momentary distraction to tackle me to the ground, straddling my hips and pinning my wrists with his strong hands; long fingers curling around my bones and squeezing hard. He was certainly not heavy, but something told me that whatever bulk he did have, was not made up of anything soft. Baring his teeth, he took both wrists in one hand, using the other to wrap into my hair as a lever, tilting my head up and arching my back. His head descended until I felt his cool breath on my throat. This was it, just one strike, quick, then my throat would be gone, a gaping hole all that would be left of it, my life pouring down his own. I could hear wet little noises as he licked his lips, then lightly ran his tongue over the big vein there, like some kind of vampire.

"Get it over with, asshole" I snapped, causing a growl to stir through his body, vibrating against me. The Hunter's mouth opened with a wet _pop_ and I felt his sharp teeth close on my throat, almost gently, his tongue laved at the big pulse whilst I prayed for anything to happen, some cliche that would save me from his tearing, ripping mouth. Then his jaw tensed, all the muscles tightening against my skin, his lips locking around his fangs. Ready to strike. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply and smiled. I would not cry or fear in the face of my own death.

I breathed one last thing as he clamped his teeth in, "Fuck you"

** Review please! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Wooo! Chapter 2! One of my very best friends is going to do me a picture of Damien, so if you're reading this chapter JC, thank you, you are da best.**

My eyes were painful when I woke... Wait, I woke? I couldn't believe it, had I just been dreaming that the Hunter had bitten me? I could still hear him prowling, but he sounded much closer; only the creak of wooden floorboards to let me know that he was nearby, followed by the occasional growl. Finding that although most of my body was stiff, it was moveable, so I tentatively lifted one hand to my throat. The gentlest touch to the tore bite marks brought pain ripping through me and I gasped, then clamped my hand over my lips. Silence from the hallway, crap, then, a loud snarl, glass smashing, more silence. That meant that he was gone, good, maybe that would give me some time to clean my wound then get the hell out of here.

Standing up was easier than I anticipated, so - on shaky legs - I stumbled to the ancient, grimey bathroom. The taps worked pretty well, and the mirror was cracked, but I could still see the extent of the damage that the Hunter had done to me; there was a set of perfect teeth prints around the big vein, not puncturing anything, but painful none-the-less. There was dried blood coating my neck and chest, with some thin trails on my stomach, the t-shirt was definitely ruined and would have to be replaced, couldn't say the carpet was much better. There was a tiny pool of blood around where I had been laying, turning the dog-poop carpet an even darker brown than it already was. Turning back to the mirror, I dabbed at the wounds with the cleanest towel I could find, wiping the bloody areas that didn't hurt as much. When it was all clean, I seen even more damage - the edges of each individual tooth puncture was torn, like he had pulled away quickly before his mouth had unlocked from my neck, the rest of it was covered in purple and blue bruising. Deciding that I should probably do something about it, I pulled out my first aid kit, rifling through it for some bandages and cream, applying them carefully before going back to the room, blocking the door, then laying in bed. Drifting off to sleep, I allowed myself to absently wonder why the Hunter had not finished the job. Had he found me worthy of his attentions? Really... Was I thinking about _that _with a dead guy? I seriously thought about what he looked like under his hood. I had seen some Hunters who would have been good-looking guys when they were alive

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Damien was furiously stalking the hallway outside the bedroom. Why had he kept her alive? Had he counted her as a potential mate because she had fought back? No, he counted her as worthy prey, something that would prove a challenge to his superior abilities. He contemplated how long it had been since he had last found a creature that had fought back at him, something he could revel in the joy of hunting, she would, no doubt, be a great challenge to him, his fiesty little prey. That was it, that was the reason he had not killed her, she would be much more fun to chase and play with if he left her longer.

He could smell the blood, still taste her between his teeth and on his tongue; she tasted sweet, not unlike any other human, but still with her own distinct sherbet taste. He had loved sherbet when he was human... He couldn't wait to sink his teeth into her once again, that sweet, hot blood flowing out into his mouth, lapping up that deliciousness. Damien swore that he could hear her heartbeat pound faster and knew that she had woken up, he was just waiting for the moment that she discovered her injuries. At least the fact that he had marked her meant that she would not be hunted by the other Hunters, it would have been less painful - and less fun - to have stuck a sign to her telling the Hunters that she was his property.

There was a gasp from the other room, it reminded him of the sweet, sweet blood that pumped around her body; it made him rumble deep in his throat, cursing the day that the Green Flu had taken his life and turned him into the creature he is now. It would be better for him to get outside, take a deep breath, then leave to hunt, so he leaped to the nearest exit, which hapened to be through the window. The glass shattered around him, showering the street and the few commons there with pointed shards, before pouncing out towards another safehouse where he could smell survivors, four of them. He had heard them whilst the female slept in his room, and he was out, one guy blabbering about some guy named Keith, one guy was telling him to wait to tell his stories, and the other two were quietly listening to the banter between them. They all smelled amazing, but not as delightfully scented as his prey. She always seemed to end up in his thoughts... Shaking his head and growling, he started to hunt.

He was in quickly enough. They had left one of the windows upstairs open and he easily slid through the ajar glass, pressing his small body underneath the pane in case it made any noise when it was opened. He began his silent descent down the stairs, slinking down each step with a liquid grace that only cats have, watching for any sign of life in the dark bask of neon lights inside the safe house. Against one wall, a big, dark-skinned man was propped up in a sitting position, an assault rifle laid across his lap. Eying the gun, Damien crept across the floor on his fingertips and toes, hearing the almost-silent creaking of his boots as they groaned under his weight. It was luck that he knew the creaking of his boots, it was luck that they were quiet enough so he could hear the soft padding of socks against the cold linoleum. He leaped to the side just as a pistol shot roared through the air, pain lancing through his left shoulder as the bullet lodged into his shoulder blade, stubbornly sticking there. He screeched at the pain, and the interruption of his hunt.

"Ellis! Rochelle!" Called the white-suited man who had shot him, shit. When he heard the other two wake up, he knew he was seriously underpowered compared to the four armed humans, so, powering up th stairs, he searched for escape - taking another shot to the left thigh as he lunged up the stairs and out the window. He just wanted to go back to his bed now. His bed that was occupied by _her_. That irritating human with the delicious scent, sleeping in his bed. Screw it, he would sleep in his bed, even if he meant that he had to sleep in the same bed as her.

Limping up the stairs of his nest, he barged through the door of the bedroom - after finding it barricaded shut - then dropped to all fours, taking a bit of weight off of his agonisingly painful leg. There she was, sprawled on one side of the bed, whimpering whenever she moved her head, that sweet, sweet blood trickling down her pale neck. Creeping closer, he inhaled the scent of the coppery liquid, then lifted the covers, climbing onto the mattress beside her.

The female rolled over, flinging one delicate arm over his midriff and nuzzling his chest, placing kisses along the muscles that jumped under her cool breath. Her body was not as warm as his and brought shivers from him, his teeth chattering a bit as she further wrapped herself around him.

"Love you, Logan" She murmured quietly, but he pushed her away. Sleeping in the same bed was one thing, cuddling with her was another. However much her body felt great pressed against his, all that soft, warm (well, warm for a human) tasty flesh rubbing against his... He indulged in what he'd wanted to do since he seen her in the bed, he lapped at the wound on her neck, head lolling and eyes rolling back at the intense taste of her blood on his taste buds. His eyes closed and he drifted off with that taste rolling in his mouth.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

I was woken with a loud whimpering and feeling far too hot, like a blazing inferno was creeping up my back. It was way too hot to be comfortable, and I wondered what it was; the answer was in the sounds that came from the thing spooned into my back, the shuffling of it as it moved. The Hunter. He was in bed with me, curled up against my spine, bowing my neck against his eager mouth, which licked at the wounds on my neck and caught any stray drips of blood that oozed from them. I didn't want to move, he already had his chance to kill me and didn't, but did that work in my favor? It wasn't something I wanted to chance, so I stayed totally still, stiffening under the strong Hunter's grip, I had the feeling that struggling would excite him.

He must have felt my breath hitch as he hit a particular spot, so he stopped. Debating on hitting him, I decided that I would rather look him in the face as I died. Spinning around to face him, I found that face much closer than I would have wanted, it was the way I used to wake up with Logan, so close, so very close. He had a ferocious smile on his face, like I did when I looked at prime rib, drawing in a breath as he leaned closer to my ear, feeling the corners of his mouth tugging up in a feral grin.

"Got You"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**This is the third chapter of the third fanfic I have written tonight. But then, I'm ill, and my parents know that I won't stay in bed all day, even if they paid me too... Which they didn't.. Ashrai is a bit more sarcastic in this one I think. I guess I'm bored.**

**It all belongs to Valve, so I can't take any credit. My beloved friend, whom I mentioned in the last chapter, has drawn the most amazing picture of Damien and I love her for it. I'll get the link up soon on the next chapter, so you can send her lots of love of DeviantArt, putting up with me, she deserves it ;D**

_He had a ferocious smile on his face, like I did when I looked at prime rib, drawing in a breath as he leaned closer to my ear, feeling the corners of his mouth tugging up in a feral grin._

_"Got you."_

The first thing I noticed was how strong the Hunter's body was atop mine, compared to his height (he was about the same height as me) as he swung a leg over my hip to straddle me. The second thing I noticed was how hot he was... Not in that way... His skin was burning hot, his temperature so high that he should be dead - har har. The third thing I noticed was - HOLY CRAP HE TALKED! If he could talk, then maybe he could reason... Maybe not. But a girl could hope. _C'mon Ashrai, stop being so down_, I thought to myself.

"Please." I breathed under him, it was I could do with the weight of his muscular frame bearing down on me, one hands gripping both my wrists and tugging them above my head. He winced slightly when he did so, but hid it pretty well. All I could see of his face was below his nose - the rest was covered by the black hood of his sweater - but I noticed his features, he was old enough to have that 'squared-off' kind of jaw, not the smooth curved chin of someone young and his teeth were amazingly white for someone who ate people. Wow. Here I was oggling the Hunter who would happily play jump rope with my intestines, goody.

"Please _what_? What do you want me to do?" He growled. Only when you're being pinned by an 170 pound predator with razor sharp teeth and claws, with more muscle than a high-school jock, does something like that sound sexual.

"I want you... " He grinned at that, letting go of my wrists and trailing one hand down my ribcage, "To get the hell off me," I swung a punch at his face, which connected soundly against his nose. There was a crack, and then his weight was gone, crouched in the corner of the room snarling and hissing at me in rage, blood trailing down his chin to drip on the floor. Now he was furious. I simply sat up in the bed and looked at him, he was still hissing, but he wasn't attacking. Why?

"Why aren't you attacking?" I said, then mentally face-palmed. Should I give him ideas? I think not.

"I like you, you're feisty, you make good prey." His voice was rich, and it flowed over my skin like something touchable. He really did have an amazing voice, even if it was all growly, but, he was a Hunter, no cookies for him. Good prey, eh? He was treating this like some sick game of hide and seek. You just go and hide so I can find you and eat you, maybe I'll play skip-rope with your entrails. Happy times. Glaring at him, I noticed how he favored his left leg and arm, he was very obviously hurt, and was very obviously trying to hide it, injured limbs don't bode well for predators who need all of them to hunt. I was about to do something extremely stupid, and I knew it. But I could tell gunshot wounds when I seen them - especially with the burnt holes in his jeans and jumper - and the bullets needed to be removed or they would get infected. I could hit myself for stupidity later.

"You've been shot," I stated, pointing to his thigh. The Hunter's mouth turned down into a terrifying scowl for a moment, then he nodded hesitantly, "Would you like me to remove the bullets?"

He went defensive, his whole posture just bunched up, muscles tensing. he was thinking it over though, I could see him gnawing on those plump red lips, worrying them so much that he punctured them.

"Why do you want to help me?" There was that voice again, I was almost drooling when he finished the sentence. Almost.

"Because Hunters need all their limbs to hunt, anndddd, I guess I'm an idiot, you'll just kill me later."

"Yeah," He replied, but nevertheless limped over to me, hopping deftly onto the bed and sprawling out beside me. I could see that he was still tense, like he expected to stick a knife in his back... That was exactly what I was going to do, not as if I could suck the bullet out, that doesn't work as well as people would like to think; I'd tried it myself at one point and just succeeded in losing more blood, then swallowing the little piece of lead.

"Ummm, you need to take your... ummm pants and jumper off, I need to get to the wounds," I had a feeling he already knew this, so, grinning, he stood up, pulling down his trousers, just enough so I could get to the hole, which was roughly mid thigh. My jaw must have fallen off, his thighs were like steel, something you would only see in modelling magazines, I was surprised the bullet didn't bounce off. He shook his head when I expectantly pointed to the hoodie, telling me that he didn't want me to see his face. Fair enough. He lay back down on his stomach, arms crossed under his head. He seemed startled when I pulled out the big hunting knife - my father had given it to me before he and my mother fled from the infection. The tip of the knife dug carefully into the wound, the last thing I wanted was to push the flimsy little thing in further, the knife was not made for this, it was made for skinning animals, and I had the feeling if I pushed the bullet in any further, the big knife would rip him a new one trying to get it out.

"So... What's your name?" I asked, trying to make conversation whilst I caught the tip of the knife under the bullet, trying to pry it back out. Slowly, so slowly, it slid back out-

"Damien"

"What?"

"You asked me for my name, it's Damien. Yours?"

"Ashrai."

That was all that was spoken then, an exchange of names, but I wanted to say more. _How did he talk? Where did he come from? What was it like being a Hunter?_ The bullet came out with a loud pop and a spray of crimson, splashing onto the new t-shirt I had found, well, damn. Recovering my first aid kit, I bandaged up his thigh, trying to ignore the feeling of the solid heat twitching under my hands whenever I accidentally touched him. I was really quite happy that he hadn't gone commando the day he died, and I had never been so happy to see a pair of plain black boxers. Point for him.

Sliding his hoodie up, I found that his back was equally as muscled as his legs, with the indent of his spine looking like the grand canyon against the rest of his back. This bullet was in a shallower hole, and after a minute, was on the floor next to us and his back was wrapped with clean bandages. Tugging up his trousers, he stepped about the bed, then dropped into his classic Hunter crouch, crawling on the floor before glancing up at me with a huge smile, almost scary with those pointed teeth.

"Thank you," I shrugged in reply. His head jerked up, and I could see his nostrils flaring for a moment, before he growled loudly going over to the window. There was gunshots from outside, four different guns... That meant... SURVIVORS! Grabbing my equipment, I bolted down the stairs, I found an angry Hunter catch my arms as I hit the last step, holding on to me tightly.

"Let me go Damien," I fought against him; wriggling, squirming, kicking at him, but he didn't budge. Instead, he turned me in his arms, gripping my shoulders with those iron hands and pulled me closer so that I was mere inches away, so close that I could see the shining of pale grey eyes, maybe blue and a thread of blood-red hair that spiralled down over his eye. I wanted to rip his hood away and reveal his face, see if it matched the rest of him, probably did, but I still wanted to check.

His face lowered to mine, not far, just a tilt of his head and he was at the perfect height. I fought harder now, knowing what he was going to do; I wouldn't have minded if he was human, because he was a gorgeous looking guy... But bits of human between his teeth? No thanks. There was no choice, one minute, he was moving closer, the next there was further away from me, not touching, "Thank you for helping me, but know this; when you go out there, you're free meat, watch the roofs." He growled with a deadly smirk, then shoved me to the door.

"Go get them," My eyes never left the darkness under his hood as I backed out the door, you never trust a predator at your back, never. He opened his mouth to speak again, "I have a taste of your blood now, you won't get away that easy. I'll give you to the count of one hundred, then I'm coming Ashrai. I won't stop now." The grin on his face now was not a pleasant one, it was the baring of teeth that the lion got when it knew that its prey had no escape. I would never forget that grin, it would haunt my dreams that night and probably every other night.

Slamming the door on the Hunter, I sprinted to the survivors, using my pistol for any zombies that attacked on the way.

"Hey, Ellis, we got a live one" "Another survivor" "She's no zombie" "My god... We thought everyone else was dead!"

I was greeted with excited chatter as I joined the group of four. They were pretty damn nice people -except for Nick, he was an ass - but I knew that I could trust them, I mean, who else was I gonna trust? Damien? He was out for my blood, the help meant nothing, he probably just wanted to inhale my scent again before I left, so it was fresh in his mind, y'know? He was the Hunter and I was his prey, he would get me eventually, he was far too good at what he did. How would he have survived otherwise?

That would explain the nervous shiver I got when I seen a crouched figure stalking over the rooftops, which saluted at me as I noticed it. Cheeky bugger was taunting me. I had waved back, then ran as fast as I could to catch up and stick with the group, I would not be leaving them now. Not whilst Damien was still alive.

**This chapter feels so rushed! I'll redo them in time... Reviews make Damien a happy Hunter! Less likely to play skip-rope with your entrails. WOO! ENTRAILS!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**I changed a little bit in the last chapter, because I agreed with one of my commenters, keith, that they warmed up to each other a little quickly. I hate doing that but it's a bad habit... So that parts gone.**

**www. hanniballectermd. /art/ Damien-The-Hunter-309982804**

**Take out the spaces of course ;) That's a pic of Damien done by my friend, which she got pretty perfect. I'll probably try and do one myself, but I'm useless at drawing people...**

**Rant over! Let's begin!**

When I was with the others - He was there. When I was healing myself - He was there. When I was snipering a smoker - He stood behind it and waved. When I went to the bathroom, he hung outside the window and tapped his nails on the glass; for that, I fired my pistol out the window, almost deafening myself in the small room, but earning a hurt yelp. Then Ellis had barged in the door, with me still on the toilet and had earned himself a slap to the face... Privacy an' all.

So far, we had been doing alright, we had been attacked by a horde, no Tanks so far and had avoided a Witch. My ankle had healed up, so I was doing alright with keeping up, but I always had the sense of being followed, I knew I was, but I could never see him. He was far too good to be sitting in the open. That would be like a Witch standing still and letting you shotgun her in the head. The 'he' I was talking about was my own, personal stalker; A Hunter named Damien. I hadn't seen him in a week, since I shot him in the bathroom incident, but he was still there, lurking in the shadows, hunting. Damien would never let me see him, of course, but that didn't mean he wasn't there, it was extremely unnerving. Like when we went through a dark alley at night to get to a safe house, and I panicked because there was a shadow that didn't look entirely natural. When I refused to go - even sitting down on the ground so Nick had to carry me - I could his deep, throaty laughter ring through the streets... The shadow looked a little more natural after that.

Even after I came so close to the Hunter, removing the bullets from him, I didn't want to see him again. He had warned me that he would hunt me, since he found me so interesting. I knew for a fact that he meant his threat, backed it up with everything he had, waiting for the perfect opportunity. That was not what I wanted. No thank you. I like to have what's supposed to be inside, inside. Not spilling out onto the ground so he can fingerpaint. As we left the safehouse then, I wish I hadn't even thought that. Outside, was a butchered zombie, there was almost no distinguishable parts left and on the wall was a message. Lovely.

_Ashrai, come play._

Yeah, I was pretty scared now, but how do you play with a diminuitively-sized Hunter? Should I throw some sticks? Could I teach him to sit? No. Hunters like to play using teeth and claws, I didn't have what he had, so I was already disadvantaged.

"I ain't even gonna ask," Nick muttered, turning his back and heading down a long, narrow street. The rest of us followed, spooked by the message.

There was a loud yowl from the end of the alleyway and we all stared, straining our eyes to see along the length of the street, Rochelle peering through the scope of her sniper rifle.

"You seen anything Ro?" Coach asked quietly, we didn't need any more attention, so it was best to keep the noise down.

"A Hunter... Probably the thing that made the mess with the other infected. You know him, Ash?" Everyone turned to me and I gulped.

"What's... What's it wearing?"

"Black hoodie, with little... Uh.. I think it's studs on the shoulders, black jeans with a rip in the left knee, the tape's missing off his left thigh and he's staring right at me... And saluting... He's gone. Tell me Hunters aren't that smart. Tell me he's a survivor that's playing tricks, who you didn't tell us about." I met four expectant gazes, but had nothing to say. Should I tell them about Damien? If I did, they would kill him; I would be happy, but I had to admit, he had been keeping me on my toes, so my reactions were pretty quick. If I didn't tell them, he would be happy, but he would still try and kill me. Easy choice.

"That's Damien," I began, moving forward to the alley, "He's like my personal Jigsaw," I was met with confused expressions. "You know, the Saw movies? _Would you like to play a game_? Look, never mind, but I'm his list, he likes me, but not in a 'hugs and friends' kind of way, more an 'I think you're tasty' way."

"You mean he bit you?" Nick looked perplexed, but then again, I had a high-collared jacket which I kept up at all times, hiding the bandaged bite. Slowly, I folded the collar down on itself, then tearing the bandage off, revealing the scabbed wound. I knew it was still bad from the echoed gasp among my team-mates. Ellis swore lightly under his breath then reached out to brush his fingertips over it, but I winced away from his touch, the bite was still pretty painful after little more than a week. At least the scabs meant I was healing, and I had never been so relieved to be immune from the dreaded Green Flu.

"What happened?" Ellis said, then continued, "I remember this one time, my buddy Keith told me he had a bite, turned out to be this huge bruise on the side of his neck, told me some gurl had done it to 'um, he..."

"Ellis sweetie, can this wait?" Rochelle interrupted, we all knew what the Southern boy was like with his stories "Let Ashrai tell us."

"Well," I continued, "Before I met you guys, I had been injured and found a safe house...

An hour and a full story later, we were coming to the next safe house, a solid looking sandstone building with barred windows and that huge, heavy red door that seems to be on all of them. A coincidence? I think not. All of us had to pull on the door to get it to open, obviously with the zombie apocalypse and that, people had forgotten the serious task of oiling hinges on the doors, how shameful. However, it shut easily enough behind us and we relaxed, safe for the moment. I had first dibs on the shower and accidently used up all the hot water, securing my bed on the couch for the night - fair enough - that was the usual punishment for the cold waters showers that everyone else had to endure. Everyone else would be in the two rooms on the ground floor, upstairs was forbidden due to the windows, whoop de doo.

After a delightful hot meal of beans and leftovers, we all hit the sack, retiring to our respective resting places. The couch wasn't too bad, an old black leather thing, with cusions that sagged in the middle and legs that groaned when I lay down, that wasn't promising, but it would do. I had an old salvaged blanket tossed over me and the least moth-eaten pillows for my head while I watched the darkness envelope the room as the lights were switched off. The group all called through from their rooms, wishing me goodnight.

"Goodnight guys!" I said back, feeling myself go limp as I drifted off to sleep.

"Goodnight indeed," growled a voice next to me, before a clawed hand clamped over my lips and another around my neck, "You scream, and I cut your throat."

I was shaking while I nodded slowly, "Hey Damien." He was in front of me now, kneeling down. In the pitch black, I couldn't see him properly, which made him even more terrifying for me and I struggled against the iron grip but it was no use. There was a glint of teeth and a wicked smile slid up the Hunter's face, almost glowing in the dark.

"Damien? You mean the smurf? I can't believe you would mistake an actual Hunter for him... "

For the first time, I noticed what he meant, this Hunter was massive. I bet if he stood up straight, he'd be at least Six and a half foot, compared to Damiens five, four; he was tiny compared to this monster... In more ways than one; this Hunter was built like a tank (pun intended) with thick, bulging muscles or maybe that was the boils that most Hunters seemed to have. He was strong as well, and I could feel strength in his hands that I hadn't felt in Damiens, which made me feel slightly better about my stalker - knowing that there was worse things out there than him. He threw his head back, allowing the hood to settle at his neck, so he didn't let go of me. I whimpered when I seen his face; his left half was a ragged mess of flesh and muscle, the eye rolling visably in its socket round to look at me, the green iris flared outwards like it had burst. Both eyes were clouded like a normal infecteds, unlike the clearness of Damien's grey orbs. _Always comparing to that other damned Hunter_. I almost laughed at myself. Almost, but the Hunter bared his teeth, whatever ones that weren't already in sight due to him missing his left cheek.

"Do you think I'm Damien now? Your little pretty boy is who done this to me, and when I get him, I'll do the same back, return the favor."

"You do that," I snarled, fighting against him again, but he tightened his grip round my throat. Inside, I hoped that my team would hear me struggling and come to the rescue, but I doubted it. Nothing could help me now, unless... There was a scampering noise that I knew all too well... Another Hunters came barelling into the room and flew into the half-faced one, rolling them onto the floor. It wasn't Damien. The other Hunter had a red hoodie on, with dark brown blood stains, and it was _tiny_ compared to the other one, a female, as I realised when the hood whipped back in the fight to reveal long, bleach-blonde hair. She turned round for a moment, staring me straight in the eyes with her little china doll face and big, glassy blue eyes.

"Get your friends and get out!" She roared, swiftly dodging a punch from the male, who was savagely snapping the remainder of his jaws trying to catch her throat. Screeching in eager anticipation, the little Hunter clawed at him wherever she could while keeping him away from me, giving me time. I took that time, flying into the room where the others had all decided to sleep.

"GET UP!" I yelled and they all jumped, sluggishly trying to get up as quickly as they could, rushing faster when they heard the shrieks of the Hunter's in the other room. Sprinting past them, we took shots at the bigger Hunter, spraying bullets into him, even as we left the house. If it wasn't enough to kill him, it was enough to seriously handicap him. I led the charge down another thin street until I smacked into a solid form, everyone piling up behind me. Glancing up, my green eyes met with blue-grey ones, a wisp of wavy scarlet hair draped over them, a large smile spreading over his face. Could it get any worse? Hadn't I asked that before? Hadn't the answer been unpleasant?

"Damien..." I backed up, shoving the others back too, trying to get away from the grimacing predator before us. Too late, Damien sank to the ground crawling towards us with the deadly grace of a leopard, all he was missing was the tail. A low growling rumbled low in his throat and he inhaled loudly, making a show of things.

"Hello, my little Ashrai," He purred, slinking closer.

Remember when I asked if things could get any worse? That was when I heard Nick from the other end of this closed-in alley...

"TAAAANNNKKKKK"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Thank you to**_**shaymaci**_**for letting me know that I had accidentally uploaded the wrong file for chapter 3 when I fixed some errors. **

**Thank you also to **_**keith1887**_** who was my first commenter and has had lots of motivational things to say :L Cheers! Also that his name's Damien, which I find rather creepy :D He also mentioned stuff about Damien's behaviour that I was never going to make anything of, but decided it would play a roll in it. Again thank you! **

**And thanks to everyone else who has commented and favorited, it means a lot. Reviews make me a happy girl and are very motivating!**

**Rant Over, it's Tank time!**

We were in deep shit now. We had a crazy Hunter on one side and a charging Tank on the other. The special infected was trying to charge down the long, narrow streeet to no avail. It was too thin, so the brute had to stop to knock down the walls every few seconds to make room for himself, we were well and truly stuck between a rock and a hard place. So what do you do? Do you try and sweet-talk the Hunter, who had listened to reason before, but turn your back on the Tank, so he could throw chunks of the ground at you? Or do you pump the Tank full of lead and shrapnel and turn your back on the devious Hunter? Answer: I sweet-talked Damien whilst everyone else shot the huge special infected that was battering up the alley behind us. The guns were blasting behind me as I glared into the Hunter's light grey eyes, seeing the mischevious but deadly glint in them as he stared intensely back at me.

"Damien, move," I snarled, striding closer to him, bracing an arm as if to push him out of the road, but he didn't budge, instead catching hold of my extended arm. For being such a small guy, he wasn't easily intimidated, even if I was the same height as him. "If you havent noticed, there is a Tank back there, barely being held back by a barrage of bullets."

The Hunter smiled, his ivory fangs glinting in the light. It was a frightful looking expression on his face, one that told you everything and nothing about what he was thinking; I could only speculate as to what he had planned. That was when he opened his mouth, flicked out his tongue, licked his lips then began to speak, "I know about the Tank, Ashrai, maybe it was part of my plan to get you where I wanted, so your friends could watch as I tore into that pretty throat."

His other clawed hand trailed up my neck, nails catching on the delicate skin until I drew in a sharp breath, then to my cheek, where those razor claws pressed in, dimpling the skin underneath them and drawing pinpricks of blood. Swallowing, I smacked his hand swiftly away and looked back, the Tank was getting closer and closer, no longer getting stuck between the thin walls on either side of us, nor getting held back by the barrage of bullets.

"But the Tank, if you do it now, when that thing is coming towards us, then the Tank will have punched your ass into next week before you get to enjoy sinking your teeth in, you'll have no time to savour the kill." I was doing my best here, I had to try. This was the only way I could get us all out alive, or even most of us out alive.

"Hmm, you do have a point there, but, no. This is not a chance I'm willing to pass up." The hand that had carressed me shot out, aiming for my throat, but I fell backwards in time to avoid the claws. Fortunately for me, they only clipped the skin of my my neck, leaving long - but shallow - jagged cuts along my collarbone and higher. Unfortunately for me, my head smacked off of the ground as I tumbled backwards, before I could catch myself, and I felt my head crack off the hard concrete. Great, so here I was, probably concussed, with blurry vision, a pounding headache and that rush-of-blood sound thumping loudly through my ears. Could it get any- No. Don't even bother. There was stars floating around the corner of my sight as I felt myself getting lifted up by someone and carried off...

L4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4D

_What is wrong with her? Really? She passes out on me now? Just as I was about to have my fun?_ Damien shifted uncomfortably as he stared down at the immune survivor at his feet. The other four were still pummeling the Tank with bullets and from the look of the big, dumb creature, it wouldn't last much longer, not against four of them. It might even be dead before it reached them, which would be very soon. The beast had had to force its way through the alley with the bricked garden walls on either side stopping its movement quite regularily; forced to beat them down to have room to advance. The problem was; when the Tank was down, what would the other humans turn their attention to? Him, that was what.

The Hunter gave a frustrated growl as he made his decision, slipping an arm under Ashrai's knees and another around her shoulders then lifting. Picking her off the ground was easy - although she was almost the same height as him, the infection had give him some amount of strength, and she was feather-weight - it was awkward though, he couldn't leap to get away like he normally would have, instead he was stuck running on the ground for the moment. He wondered where to take her... Back to his nest? No, Half-Face would be there and so would his sister, Merle. After their tremendous performance to chase the survivors out of the safe house, he was proud of them, but they might take Ashrai as being their reward. She was _his_ prey, not theirs, they could find their own prey to hunt.

Although, when he though about it, did he want to kill Ashrai? Could he would go back to the boring lifestyle of toying with the commons on a daily basis?...No, that didn't appeal at all.

Taking off sprinting, Damien headed towards the safe house that they had left earlier. It had taken them an hour to get here, but with his stamina, he could do it in half that.

The safe house was much smaller than his nest, but much safer looking, especially since his two pack-mates had vacated the premesis and were waiting patiently for his return at his nest. That meant he could leave her there... But if he did that, if she had a concussion she would probably die from the swelling of her brain or another infected could smell her blood and track it back to here. No, his prey. _His_.

"Thank God for freezers..." Damien muttered as he dug out the ice tray from the still-working freezer; zombies were far too stupid to interrupt with electrical supplies, which some humans had begun fixing up. As he grabbed the cleanest dish towel as he could from the kitchen to wrap ice cubes in, he absently wondered if things would ever be the same, if the humans could take their home back from the infected, or if they would continue to be a they would breed enough to keep sustained for a while, then blink off the face of the Earth, group by group, what would happen then? Would the infected die off too? They didn't really need sustenance, so probably not.

Packing up the ice cubes into the towel thrust Damien into a memory; long forgotten since he had 'died' and turned into a Hunter... Something he thought had been bottled up inside him, with no way to access it:

"_Private Winters, what have I told you about that God-forsaken hair?" Sarge yelled, storming into the room with that air of dominance that seemed to flow around him. The guy was huge, maybe six, five in height, built like a wrestler and wore a permenant scowl on his face. He was a great guy on leave, but the minute he stepped into base, he was 'Sarge,' always in control. He always tried to use the 'I'm bigger than you' routine on Damien, but it didn't work, the smaller man was far too used to people thinking that he could be bossed around because of his size. Damien looked up from underneath the fiery curtain of scarlet that flowed down and over the sides of the bed, when he stood up, he knew it would just touch his hips. Sarge had made him promise to keep it either up in its braid, or at least out of the road on the base, so that if there was an emergency, he didn't have to spend time messing about with it._

_"Sorry, Sarge, I'm just out the shower after medical ward work with my sister and I can't put it up yet or it'll never dry," Merle had been a scientist, researching about the effects of virus' and how they could be used to strengthen genes and fight disease. Damien was the one who helped treat the injured soldiers, and dispose of the experiments that didn't go according to plan. He'd never wanted to work with CEDA, but he didn't want to leave Merle alone. Glancing up into his commanding officer's eyes he let his fatigue show in his face. It had been a long day after all; some soldier had fallen on the course and given himself a concussion, so he had spent most of his working hours trying to find inventive ways to make ice packs, with the most successful being ice cubes wrapped in a towel._

_"Just get it up once it's dry. I need you ready for oh-eight hundred tomorrow, the lab's experimentation has gone according to plan and we are going to test the prototype tomorrow, dismissed." With that, Sarge left, striding out like he owned this place, which made Damien roll his eyes. That was great news though, all the research had payed off and tomorrow they would be testing the new experiment; a man injected with what would later become the Green Flu._

_The next morning, he had arrived at the labs, dressed in his black gothic-style jeans and a black hoodie. Rules were loose about clothing as long as you had the scrubs on, which he did; the itchy white material wrapped around his clothes, but it gave him an awful rash when it rubbed around his neck. _

_In the holding cell, through the plexiglass window, was Subject 1, who was crawling about the floor and growling like an animal. There was staff trying to get him under control with tasers and dart guns, but neither seemed to be working, the infuriated man was snapping and clawing at everyone he could, biting some and slashing others... That was when Damien saw Merle, she was lying on the floor in the cell, holding her stomach. No, holding her insides from falling out. He rushed into the room, but he had no chance, the creature had taken down the other staff then pounced on him. Trying to use his arm to protect his face, he found that the man bit right through the skin, almost to the bone... So much pain, his vision went crimson... Then nothing._

He recalled waking up a few days later in the medical hospital, with only his jeans on, but when he went to find a new jumper in his barracks, he realsied that he was walking on all fours, slinking like only a predator could. Subject 1 had found him in his room putting on another black hoodie - his favorite with the silver studs on the shoulders - and explained to him what he was, and what to do; the man had tought him everything.

But here, holding this ice pack, taking it to Ashrai, he remembered his life before CEDA had screwed everything up for him... Shaking his head, he walked back through to the living room, where he had set the woman down on the thick shagpile rug. She was breathing deeply, so he could tell she was still unconscious. Good. Much easier to treat people when they aren't talking or squirming. He lay down beside her, placing the ice pack against her head and hoping that she didn't have a concussion, it wouldn't be fair to hunt her in that condition, nor would it be interesting. Especially if she died from it, then he would be bored again.

He knew that tonight the temperature was going to be low, his human senses telling him to keep warm, build a fire, but the Hunter part scoffed, knowing that his core body temperature was not 37, but ran as a toasty 45, which was pretty damn hot. He also knew that he couldn't use the duvet upstairs to keep Ashrai warm, because that was where Merle and Half-Face had hidden earlier at his command, and he knew they liked each other... Even he wouldn't sleep with that duvet if they had done what he thought they had.

Damien did the only thing he could; he curled himself around her, warming her with his own body to make sure she didn't freeze tonight. Why did he do it? Maybe because she was fun. He _liked_ watching her jump at shadows thinking it was him, then creeping slowly away. He _liked_ creeching while she tried to sleep and hearing her gasp. He _liked _how she fought against him, even though she knew he was stronger, faster than she was. He _liked_ how she tried to be brave, pushing him out of the road, even as he could smell the fear, sweet and heavy in the air around her. But if you had asked straight why he had done it, he would have replied truthfully - he didn't know.

**Woo! Another chapter. Review please, it's free and takes only a moment, it makes Damien a happy Hunter, and makes me a happy author with more motivation to write... But this is the start of the school holidays, so expect a chapter every couple of days, if not, every day :L THANK YOU!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**I know I said it's the holidays and I would be updating every couple of days... But (un)fortunately, depending on the viewpoint, I am going away. I can't take my laptop down to England or Wales with me, so you're stuck until next week at some point. My greatest apologies for this, and it's a bit short because I didn't have much time to take on it - We are leaving tomorrow night, so I had to write fast :)**

I was in the middle of the oddest dream... I was back at my house before the infection, but I was in the kitchen, which was coated in ice... Whatever had made me dream this, I wanted more. But anyway, I dreamed that I was inside the oven in the icy room, cooking, burning with the heat inside, I had to get out, had to, felt like I would burst into flames if I didn't. Smashing at the door of the oven, I recalled shattering the glass (Almost impossible in real life) then putting my head through to escape, but just as my neck passed, the glass reformed; trapping my head in the freezing temperatures of the surrounding room, but leaving my body to bake in the oven... How strange.

My eyes creaked open to that exact feeling. My head was cold, with something wet dripping down over my face, trickling through my hair, over my eyelids and down my jaw, everywhere there was liquid dribbling down my features and of course there was the heat against my back. There was a cold wind coming through the door at the other side of the room but I couldn't get up to fix it; a heavy arm was draped across my waist, pinning my arms down, and a muscular leg sprawled over my own. It was a horrible awakening, because I was no longer sure if it was _my _Hunter, or just another one out for my blood... But then, would the predator be snuggling with its prey? No, but I had woken with Damien like this before; it usually led to unpleasant experiences.

"Damien?" I whispered softly, resisting the urge to swipe at the wet weight on my head. "Damien, is that you?"

No answer. Never a good sign. Just as I prepared myself to give the thing behind me an elbow to the gut, a long-fingered hand caught my arm. There was a deep chuckle and I tensed.

"It's me Ashrai, forgive me for not liking my prey frozen." There was a hint of amusement in his tone, but I didn't quite understand what was funny, nor did I ask for him to elaborate, I had the feeling that I wouldn't like what he would tell me. "What's wrong Ashrai? Hunter got your tongue?"

I took a deep breath, "Don't be a dick, Damien, it's not every day that the little fish wakes up next to the shark. Why are you doing this?"

"It was freezing last, there's frost outside and you were injured. I kept you warm with my own body heat, as you can see, couldn't have the shark eating a little frozen sardine, could we?"

I was tempted to ask him how hot his body ran, but I didn't want to know... Shouldn't zombies be cold, hard, dead things? They should, but what I felt behind me was incredibly hot, almost scalding against me; he wasn't soft, but muscular although even then, there was some give to his flesh and he certainly wasn't dead - I could feel his heart's strong _thump-thump, thump-thump_ against my shoulder blades, beating much faster than my own. Was that because of the infection? Or because he was giving away valuable body heat? So many questions, so little answers. I didn't want to ask them, I wanted to get away from him; as far away as I could.

"Let go of me, Damien." Each word was careful, didn't want to annoy him with his mouth so close to the back of my neck. Just one bite was all it would take for me to be paralysed on the ground, left to the mercy of the Hunter. Said Hunter was now licking my shoulders; his tongue was rough, like a cat or dogs. It wasn't unpleasant, but it certainly didn't feel great, so I wriggled, I wriggled and writhed out of his grip and he let me. Managing to get to my feet, I found the world twisting and my legs unsteady, the thing that was on my head, was now on the floor. I was surprised at the thing, it was a dish towel; filled with half-melted ice cubes. _Had Damien saved me?_ I remembered falling, I must have had a concussion! But why did he help me? Did it not benefit him if his prey was disadvantaged and couldn't get away? I'd never know.

Damien was sprawled out on the fluffy rug, his hood still up, but I knew those grey eyes were peering up at me from the darkness of his upper face. He had propped his head up on one arm, the join of his elbow disappearing into the shagpile, I never knew that his waist was so thin... _Stop that!_ I chided myself, looking away from him on the floor and stumbling towards a chair. When I almost faceplanted the floor next to the couch, I felt a strong hand catch me and I was whirled to face Damien, his mouth twisted into a snarl.

"Stupid girl, you don't need me following you to get hurt." He spat, yanking his hand away like I had electrocuted him. I ignored the comment and sat on the plush couch, relaxing into the cushions, it was bliss for my aching bones that had been uncomfortable on the floor.

"Why are you helping me now? This seems a bit sudden," I asked staring up into his eyes which were just barely visible. He whirled on his feet and walked to the stairs, probably so he could leave through one of the windows. I could hear him exhale loudly before he spoke.

"I told you already, I don't like frozen food." His heavy footsteps went up the stairs then stopped. Th next was said very softly, almost a whisper on the breeze that flowed round the room. "And maybe, because I like you."

_Motherfuc..._

L4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4D

Why he had said that, he would never understand. That woman was infuriating, but she was strong. Only the strong survived, he learned that from Subject 1, who had bided his time until he attacked; strength isn't always about how much you can lift, there is strength in intelligence. Luckily, Damien had both kinds.

Damien made his way back home, towards his nest, where Half-Face and Merle would be waiting for him... Hopefully they hadn't gotten bored and tried to find him, because his scent would lead them to Ashrai. _Ashrai_. Well screw her, she was prey, not one of them, she would never be an eligible mate for him... Woah, he was getting far too ahead of himself, there was no way he'd be allowed back to the pack if he was mated to a human. They were food, that was all. Not to mention that she was _cold_, not pleasant when he was trying to sleep and she kept tossing and turning, nuzzling her frozen nose into his neck and face. When she warmed up a little, it was much better, her skin was soft... He stopped himself, and reminded his brain that she was _prey_ not _mate._

Slipping into his nest through the window, he was promptly bowled over by a little, red blur and he found himself spread-eagled on the rough carpet with Merle's wet tongue lapping at his face. Growling, he shoved her off then wiped his slobbery cheek with his sleeve; Merle was always acting like a big dog, but truth was, she was probably the smartest Hunter alive.. Or dead, depending on how you though about it.

"Hey Merle," He greeted, standing up once again and embracing his younger sister, who laughed when he licked right up her face. "I have to congratulate the both of you on a job well done"

Half-Face was at the door, casually leaning against it with his arms folded across his broad chest; he was a behemoth of a Hunter compared to Damien, but he wasn't as skilled as the younger, smaller Hunter. Merle was even smaller than Damien at five foot two... He wondered how those two even fit together, she barely came up to his chest. He voiced his opinion to the two of them.

"How the hell do you two manage? It's like a mouse making out with an elephant." Damien chuckled, pushing his sister towards her mate, who caught her and lifted her into a bridal-style carry, with one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders.

"She's a perfect height." Half-Face scowled, the terribly scarred half of his features twisting gruesomely. Damien still felt bad for doing that to him when he first met the bigger Hunter. Half-Face had been chasing his sister in a crouch, pouncing on her and purposefully missing; he had just been playing, but Damien hadn't realised that. He was furious and had thought that Merle was being attacked, so he leaped in, pinned the larger Hunter and sank his teeth and claws into the once-handsome face. Merle had never minded it, in fact, she enjoyed the different texture of the scars, but Half-Face was mortified when he found out the extent of the damage, that he would never have the left hand side of his face again. When Damien had explained, he had grudgingly forgiven him, then the two had become best friends, sticking in the little trio to hunt and sleep. He realised that Half-face had been speaking to him during his little dream.

"Hmm?" Damien said, shaking his head to clear the thoughts.

"I said, your sister, she's a perfect height, just as high as my heart.. And if she kneels down, she's just as high as..."

Damien growled, he _certainly_ didn't want to hear that. The other two just laughed as they began to walk to the living room, probably just to chill for a while before they went hunting. Damien just wanted to sleep, not fitful naps that he had the previous night, but a proper sleep.

His old bed was comfy, still spongy after all the years he had stayed here, before the infection. It had been his home, just as it became his nest, but there was a very strange scent on the bed. It wasn't him, it almost smelled like... _Oh no._

"Guys!" He called downstairs, and his sensitive hearing picked up on stifled giggles, "Not on my bed!"

"Oh yeah!" Merle yelled back up, "On _your_ bed."

He chuckled, he couldn't help it. His sister was a menace of a girl that had been released when she became a Hunter. Shaking his head, he drifted off to the thoughts of his life before he had joined CEDA.

_He was standing, only in his jeans, out in the frosty morning. Ashrai was in front of him, wearing his hoodie, looking and smelling like a Hunter. She was magnificent standing there, covered in blood, her own blood... But that couldn't be... No, it wasn't her. A large hand came up and pulled the hood down, the body transformed, it was _him. _The pack-leader, come to find Ashrai. She was now lying on the ground in front of him and he was kneeling, letting hand trace over her body._

_"It's going to be okay, Ash, you'll be fine." He was whispering to her. Stroking hands through her dark hair, matted with her own blood._

_"No, it's not..." She murmered, "Help me Damien."_

His body jerked awake. She was in trouble, that bloody girl, he knew it. Still sleepy, his body lunged shakily out the window and he leaped for the safe house, unsure of what he would find. Who was he kidding? She would be lying there safe in the upstairs bedroom, with a duvet wrapped around her. There was a rich smell of blood there, her blood, and the strong scent of an alpha Hunter, a strange scent that he knew all to well; his past was following him.. And now it had Ashrai, his prey. Bursting into the room, he found the carpet splashed with drying blood, her blood. He howled. Howled loud and clear enough so that _he_ could hear. He was coming for his... Prey? Ashrai was not his prey anymore, friend? No. She was a hunter, not like him, but in her own way.

But even the hunters are hunted...

**Evil much? I'll have another one up in a week, more apologies for leaving it on a cliff-hanger, but I do love them... **

**I'll be sad when this finishes (Not happening for a while!) because I love Damien, maybe not Ashrai as much, but Damien is awesome. I want to draw a little cute chibi of him, but I can't be bothered... Maybe I'll have that for next week as well...**

**See ya**

**D-S-H**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Well howdy-doodly neighborinos, I'm back! I was bullied into writing a chapter as soon as I was back :L By my friend and by Damien, who pouted adorably whenever I tried to put it off. This chappy does jump between my characters a bit, so be patient :) Personally, I think I'm going far too fast with their relationship... Let me know please.**

**So here it is...**

**P.S keith1887 - I've tried to make it longer for you ;L **

**P.S.S. AutumnKrystal - Thank you!**

_But even the hunters are hunted..._

Two days. It had been two days since he had last seen Ashrai. Damien had managed to track her delicious scent a couple of miles south, but to no avail. They had been tracking since the sun had risen earlier that morning and the sun was just coming to rest on the Western horizon, red and orange caressing the dark outlines of trees. There was a cold wind sweeping through the area, Damien feeling it the most because of hours trudging through icy water; even worse, it was blowing away the scent that had been left. But they had a bigger problem: it abruptly ended in a swamp; smart Hunter, scent is difficult to track through water. From the smell, he could tell Ashrai was still bleeding, not as heavily, but still bleeding - enough to track, at least.

He was resting just now, perched on a branch, high in the thick tree cover above the swamp, laying across the broad branch, one leg dangling and his arms crossed beneath his head - His pose similar to that of a great cat, protecting its territory even when it looked lazy and relaxed. He was watching the commons sauntering through the water. Occasionally, one would catch their foot on a tree root and fall - usually amusing, but not now, not anymore. He hated to admit, but he liked Ashrai, he enjoyed the challenge that she was to him, it was even possible that he cared about her... Who was he kidding? He did care for her. Why else would he be looking so thoroughly for her? How it happened, he would never know. Maybe it was the time when she was with the group and he watched her creep up behind a Witch, the special infected crying like a banshee. They were usually very good at noticing survivors before they slashed them to bits, but the Witch didn't even look up. Ashrai had been silent as she unsheathes her katana, drawing it slowly, then lopping off the crying girl's head with an easy swipe. In her own way, she was as dangerous as him - That made her worthy of his affections in his eyes, but nothing could be done unless he found her.

Damien sighed, watching his breath come out in a condensed puff of hot air, trying to think of anything but the torture that Ashrai was probably being put through by her captor. Horrible torture if he knew anything about the Hunter who had her... And he did. Half-Face was perched on the tree next to him, in a similar position, with Merle stretched across his back. They were looking at him expectantly, like he should come up with some sort of plan, perhaps he should, but there was no time for that. Ashrai was in more and more danger the longer he left her with him. Damien chuckled quietly - earning raised eyebrows from his companions - at the thought of calling the other Hunter him. It reminded him of Harry Potter and He-who-should-not-be-named... Although this menace was much more real, and much more dangerous. Merle opened her mouth, showing glistening canines, then shut it again; a look of concentration coming over her face. Damien knew that when she opened again, the gap would be be replaced by her foot - For being so smart, she had no common sense when it came to talking. Surprisingly, she didn't say a thing.

"Come on," He said, dropping down in the filthy water up to his waist, gesturing for the other two to follow, "We have to find her."

Merle shook her head rapidly, her hair flying around her face, "Uh-uh Dame, not my new jumper, there's not even any blood on it yet, and to hell with you if it's getting covered in mud and whatever else is in there."

Shrugging, Damien continued, knowing that they would follow through the trees. He would have rather moved through the foliage; it was quieter for a start, and less smelly, but he couldn't track Ashrai's scent from up there, it was far too faint for that - Even if she smelled of sherbet and the swamp smelled like shit. Although he was smart enough to try and mask her scent with this sewer of a place, he hadn't counted on Damien being quite so determined.

**L4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4DL4D**

First things first: Where was I? I recalled being in the safehouse, sitting on the couch... Damien! I remember Damien, then he left and... That was the problem, what happened after Damien left? Was he here too, or was he the one that held me captive? Somehow I doubted both of those, he was far too smart and fast to be captured like this, unlike silly little me. I tried to open my eyes, to look around, but the place I was in was bathed in darkness, not even a touch of moon or sunlight to give me the faintest idea where I was. The air was cool and damp smelling, so we were probably somewhere near water... Water! We went through a swamp, I recalled waking up momentarily and seeing the greenish-brown ooze, reeds spearing through the thick sludge.

There was an almost silent _drip, drip, drip _coming from the front somewhere, but the table I was apparently strapped to would not allow me to move. Was my head tied down to it? There was a thick leather strap round my forehead, I could feel the smooth material pressed against my skin, so I took that as a yes. The pressure around my wrists and ankles was almost unbearably painful, like if they were any tighter, they would snap the fragile bones underneath. There wasn't much else that I could tell of where I was.

The stale air enveloped me, causing me to cough, trying to rid my throat of the foul odour that I was breathing in. Physically; trying to escape was impossible, the straps didn't give me an inch to struggle, only my torso was free to writhe on the cold metal of the table top. Uncomfortable was an understatement. Although I couldn't move my body, my mind was free to wander of its own accord. You never realise how much thinking you can do, until you have the time to do it.

I thought of Logan, who had been my boyfriend before all of this, of all the amazing times we had together, sitting in his living room on the old sky-blue couch that was a hand-me-down from his parents, playing Resident Evil. We used to laugh at the voice acting in the earlier ones, impersonating them whenever we talked. I thought back to the time when I had snapped a picture of him crying in the cinema at a movie, while I laughed at him, then hugged him until he felt better. He would have turned 20 last week... If I hadn't shotgunned him through the head - when his six foot frame was on all fours, crawling towards me and snarling like some rabid beast - and watched his brains leak onto the floor. A silent tear ran down my cheek as I remembered his chocolate eyes, full of mischief and playfulness, and black hair so black it had an almost bluish tint - much better matching than my own ebony curls and spring-grass green eyes - his great sense of humour and... No, no more torturing myself over that. I thought of Damien, wondered what he looked like under that blasted hood, besides his grey eyes and scarlet hair, that matched even less than mine, but I wondered still - Was he the handsome type, or the beautiful type? Or maybe he was butt ugly, maybe I would never know. Maybe I wouldn't live to know tomorrow. Best take it one step at a time.

Damien invaded my thoughts again and I idly wondered if he was as good a kisser as Logan was, besides the sharp looking teeth and the blood stains, he did have a very kissable looking mouth... No! Those kind of thoughts were not allowed, I chided myself at even imagining such a thing. He could be a nice looking guy, but he was still de- No, he wasn't; I had felt his heartbeat and his warmth. Did dead things have heartbeats? No. Regardless, he was still a zombie... Even if he was an alright guy.. NO! Diverting my thoughts, I thoroughly contemplated where I actually was. A warehouse? Some secret nuclear bunker? Underneath McDonald's? Who knew, but the overpowering stench was beginning to turn my stomach. I prayed to whatever higher entities not to let me toss my cookies, I'd probably choke, given the position I was in and it probably wouldn't help with the smell. Damn.

_Drip, drip, drip_. I could see why Chinese water torture was so effective. If someone didn't stop it soon, I would probably go mad. _Drip, drip, drip._ I would be happier listening to anything else... Just to get away from that dreadful noise. Hell, I would take a Tank in a fist-fight rather than put up with this any more. _Drip, drip, crunch_. A crunch? It was a footstep, very close to me, but I couldn't figure where. The only orientation I knew, was that I was on my back, the right way up. Facing the ceiling was preferable to facing the floor, so that was considered being the 'right way up.'

"You're awake," Came a gruff voice from behind me, but I couldn't turn my head to see who it was. Growling erupted and echoed through the room, ringing through my head . Was my captor human? I guessed not, because no human would live in a place like this, especially with all of the safe houses in the surrounding area; you had a choice of whether or not to live in a dump, the perks of a zombie apocalypse.

"Who are you?" Good, my voice was calm, even; the fear underneath masked with some effort.

"You don't need to know that," He said, and there was an edge of a snarl at the end, a dangerous little lilt that pretty much yelled 'I'm not human! I growl! Hear it? Rawr.' My sarcasm was at its finest when I was frightened.

"But maybe I want to,"

He sighed, long and drawn out as if he had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, then I heard him move towards me, but there wasn't just two heavier footsteps, there was a softer padding that sounded like shoeless feet. Or hands. It was entirely possible that he was on all fours, like a Hunter; it was Damien's preferred way of moving. Perhaps the thing behind me was a zombie, a Hunter at that.

"You have a point," A cough interrupted, barking out into the silence, "Call me Sarge."

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Damien was lost. He was stuck in this bloody swamp, chasing Ashrai's scent round in circles. Half-face was an excellent tracker, but even he had lost the track, although, he didn't care much for Ashrai. She was nothing more than dinner to the larger Hunter; even Merle - Who usually took Damiens side - had insisted that it was stupid to waste so much energy on her.

"Come on bro! She's immune! You can't even turn her into one of us! It's pointless!" She had cried, then leaped out of the road to avoid a slash from his lethal claws. He was getting frustrated with the hours of searching with no results. There was that awful dripping that sounded so close, but then, he was in a swamp. With water. That dripped. Mentally slapping himself, he continued to trudge through the waist high water, uncomfortable with being on his feet for so long. He was much more agile and faster on all four, and could leap... Leaping. He had an idea. He gestured to Half-Face to come over and his scarred face turned down in an ugly scowl,Damien could tell that he didn't want to step into the mud.

"Come on Half-Face, it's only some mud," He laughed scooping up a handful and tossing it towards the other males clean(er) sweater, spattering it with brown splots.

"Don't call me that," He growled, dropping into the mud with his mate and Damien.

"You know I don't like your actual name, right?" Damien joked, trying to get his mind off the fact that Ashrai could be getting seriously hurt.

"Hey! I don't yours! Just because your mama called you Damien and my name was picked out of a Scrabble box by a three year old!" Half-face joked back, but Damien knew that he would havemuch preferred his actual name being used, instead of the nickname he gained after their fight.

"Alright princess, calm down, now let's go before my human is turned into Hunter chow," He said, then turned serious again, "If you were carrying someone and wanted to get somewhere quickly, how would you do it?"

Half-face turned, stared at him intently then realisation dawned on him. "I would pounce... That's why we keep losing the trail! Because we can only smell where he's landed on the ground, but he's actually been in the trees, and the air and..." He was silenced by a yelp not too far away, faint, but still there. Damien whipped around, searching the trees for any sign of her, Ashrai, but the sun was setting and glaring into his sensitive eyes.

"Ashrai!" He said, charging off into the sunlight towards the sound of her voice.

Half-face turned to Merle, wrapping an arm around his mate's delicate shoulders and nuzzling into her hair. He didn't know what he would do if she had went missing instead of Damien's human. Probably kill everything in his path until he found her again; strange the things you would do for people you care about, he thought idly, watching the black blur that was Damien sloshing through the swamp.

"Your brother will get himself killed." He grumbled to Merle, who turned to him and hugged around his chest, burying her face into him.

"I know," She sighed, turning in his arms to watch her brother flying off into the slowly darkening horizon, throwing up great waves of murky swamp water in his path. He was a Hunter on a mission, with nobody to stand in his road but him. If it came to a fair fight, Damien could be killed, but the great thing about Damien? He didn't fight fair.

"I don't understand what he sees in her," Half-Face grumbled, "She's only human, she isn't anything spectacular. I really wish I understood your brother sometimes..."

"So do I, Xavier, so do I."

**More apologies for this chapter... I've lost the will to write after being on holiday for a week. I know roughly where it's going after this, but if you have any ideas... Let me know ;)**

**Until next time, duckies.**

****\/\ */\/ ****

**Damien: I am not adorable and I do not pout...**

**Me: Quiet Dame! Or I make you wear a pink tutu in the next chapter...**

**Damien: You wouldn't...**

**Me: Try me :3**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**More apologies from me! I really am sorry guys, I've just been completely bored of writing recently, total writers block... I can't promise I'll update every few days or so anymore, not with this anyway, I just don't know where to go after this chapter... I'm a bit lost to be honest... Well, here's another chapter, Damien just about bit my head off until I wrote this. When questioned, he said he was getting bored of being left hanging. I am not surprised, and the characters of my other fanfictions are getting bored being overused...**

Ramble over! Torture time! Big thanks to **Tiryn**** for helping me with the torture part, that was the part I was stuck with XD You have style.**

On with the show!  


I awoke once more to that irritating dripping and a glimmering of silver out the corner of my eye. Turning as much as possible - only a few centimetres, really - I identified it as a tray of tools that would belong better to a hospital, maybe they were from Mercy hospital, although I didn't know where it was from here, wherever 'here' was. A swamp, I knew, but where and in what swamp? There was plenty of swampy areas around here that would be perfect camouflage for a fairly small building like this (I figured it was smaller than a warehouse because the walls I could see weren't very far away, but still out of touching distance, although I didn't know how long the building was and the ceiling wasn't too high) Shit, now I knew what the stuff was for... It was torture equipment.

You see in all the movies and shows about torture, you see the hero taking it like a man, not even a flinch as they use all sorts of machinery and devices on him. They eye the instruments with bravery as it to figure out where they go and what to do. They patiently await the moment they are saved by their comrades, or die due to blood loss and other things, but this? This was nothing like that. I watched the large Hunter... Sarge, was it? As he split some bamboo plants that he had seemingly brought out of nowhere, maybe a couple of metres high and as thick as a coke can. I gulped. Shaking my head, I tried to deny what I believed he was going to do to me, my body vibrating with tension as I tried to pull at my bindings. As suspected, they didn't budge. I yelped in terror as Sarge's large hand - claw? - came into view and slapped down over my mouth, claws cutting my cheek, his other around my neck. The pain when that hand clamped round my neck was terrible, just like the day I had been bit by Damien. Had he bit me? I knew I was immune, but would that count if I was continuously bitten?

"Quiet, now, sweetheart, wouldn't want that boyfriend of yours to find you, that would put a considerable dent in my plans," He cooed quietly, slowly removing the hand that covered my mouth, while the other continued to stroke my neck. Moving around me, he positioned himself at the side of my neck that was painful, he knelt down and I could hear the sounds of glass cracking underneath him, he didn't even flinch if it hurt him. His mouth moved closer to my throat and I squirmed, desperately trying to get away from him, but no use, I was stuck firmly to the table. Sharp teeth speared into the sore spot and ripped at the healing flesh there, tearing into the muscle, gnawing at the wound and drinking the blood that poured out of it.

"You may be immune, but that don't count for shit if you're dead, you'll come back like any of us," He growled, removing his lips from the huge, gaping mess that was my neck. It was excruciating, pain ripping through me if I so much as twitched. My eyelids began to flutter shut but widened as I heard clattering behind me, I wondered what the Hunter was up to, but then realised I didn't care and tried to drift away again, to that place you go when the pain is too much, when you've lost enough blood for your brain to refuse to work properly.

"Oh no, little one, passing out on me? That won't do." I was brought back into total consciousness as he pounded one of the bamboo splinters into my left hand. Screaming, I writhed more, tears streaming down my face and sobs continually pouring out of my mouth. That was when I passed out. Even as he thrust another one through my other hand, I was gone to my happy place, skipping through the streets with Logan... No, with Damien; strange, he shouldn't be here. There was some outraged Hunter cries during the very brief periods that I was awake and lots of crashing, banging and cracking, but I was simply too weak to care.

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Damien was pouncing as quickly as he could, legs pumping to push him towards the source of the yelping and screaming. There. Hidden between a thicker clump of trees was what looked like a large metal shed; the walls smeared with swamp sludge to hide the shine and scent of the metal. Damn, he knew he should have paid more attention when he was searching. The closer he got to it, however, the greater the stench of death and old blood and him.

Sprinting around the shack, he searched carefully for an entrance through the muck that covered the whole building, but there didn't seem to be one. What a great lot of use this place must have been when it was first built, but then, maybe it hadn't been up that long... In that case, where would a Hunter put a entrance that would perhaps prevent humans from getting into their nest? Where would be the only place that a human wouldn't think to look for a door or opening? The roof, of course. It was far too much hassle to climb up the shed just to find that there was nothing in it and no ladder to get back out. A trap for any human desperate enough to go in. Leaping up onto the nearest tree, he scrambled for a minute to get a hold on the thin branch and surveyed the roof; sure enough, there was a Hunter sized hole right in the middle of the metal. It was a fairly big place now that he actually looked.

Crawling to the edge of the branch, Damien tried to glance into the hole, seeing nothing but darkness, even when his eyes adjusted to the pitch black of the single room. He swept a tress of crimson hair away from his face before silently dropping onto the roof, wincing when the metal creaked and groaned under his weight. Jumping down onto the murky concrete floor of the building, he was promptly bowled over by a larger creature.

"I knew you were here!" Sarge snarled, punching Damien in the face so hard that his head whipped round, "I could smell you!"

"I'm surprised you pulled your head out of your arse long enough to sniff me out," Damien growled back, using all his strength to flip them over and straddle the other Hunter, using his claws to try and tear into the other's stomach, but was blocked repeatedly. "Where is she?!" He yelled as Sarge landed another hit his jaw.

"Gone!" The larger Hunter yelped when Damien buried his teeth into the muscle and bone of his arm, tearing away chunks of flesh as he pulled away. "You don't deserve to be alive, scum!"

"Merle! Xavier!" Damien cried as the other tore into him with everything he had. Blood arced from both of them, snarling, ripping, fighting to the death. Just as Damien was about to sink his teeth into Sarge, strong arms jerked him away, fighting the whole time.

"Damien! Stop that!" Half-face snarled, batting away a claw that tried to swat at him. "We have him, calm down!"

The Hunter immediately stopped struggling, sighing as the adrenaline flow began to stop and the pain began, aching at first, then building up to be a wildfire of agony, the blood trickling down his body from multiple bite wounds and claw gouges, all straight to the bone, with shards of white showing through the mass of reddish tissue. He staggered a few steps before he was caught by Merle, who growled at him, "Careful, bro, wouldn't want to have to carry you home."

"Where is Ashrai?" He asked, his voice coming out in a wheeze, followed by a cough that sprayed blood from his mouth. If he didn't get back soon and rest, he would probably catch an infection - har har - and maybe die. What good would that be to anyone after how far he had already come.

"She's over there," Merle pointed to a chair, where Ashrai was slumped, the furious Sarge strapped to a table nearby, hissing and spitting. Before he could go to her, his sister caught his arm, looking sadly into his eyes, "She's gone, bro, we were too late."

"No!" He snarled, lunging towards the lifeless girl on the chair and taking her shoulders in his hands. "Ashrai!" He shook her, but there was no response from her. He shouted louder, but he only succeeded in annoying Merle and her mate, who ended up dragging him to the table where Sarge had been strapped down. Half-Face stepped forward, gesturing under the bed so that Damien could see the many bamboo shoots that pressed into the underside of the table.

"So, 'Sarge', or whatever your name is, we may not be human anymore, but we have laws of our own, tell me the one you broke tonight," Xavier's smile was deadly, showing every pointed tooth; his eyes gleaming with excitement over the torture, longing to spill the Hunter's blood. He had a wicked bloodlust when he got the chance to show it, and Merle and Damien knew to stay out of the road until he had it out of his system.

Sarge spat blood at him, which spattered over his face and chest. Half-Face simply laughed and flicked it off with his hand, landing a hard punch to Sarge's already-broken ribs. The older Hunter coughed and spluttered as his chest seemed to just cave in on itself. "Filthy creature," Half-Face muttered, wiping away the remaining blood, "But I won't kill you tonight, come on, tell me our law,"

"Not to... Harm... Another's mate," He hissed, "But she isn't one of us, although, she will be soon, I hope she thinks it was you that bit her, then she'll hate you, she would have rather died than ben one of us, she said," He was lying and they all knew it, but he was grasping at straws now, hoping to get his chance to get free.

"Well done, you knew the rule at least, and you broke it, even if they aren't mates, she was his prey and therefore his. Not. Yours. Instead of killing you, I remembered a wonderful form of torture from when I was human, wonderful to watch." Half-Face sighed happily as he remembered his life before, then grinned, "Underneath this table is several pots of bamboo. Bamboo grows through things, it doesn't stop and go around it, like most plants, but will push right through, even the table doesn't stand a chance." Sarge tensed, he knew what was happening, but Half-Face continued in an almost sing-song voice.

"There is one beneath your head, one beneath your heart and the other are in various other positions. The problem doing this with humans is that they tended to starve before the bamboo grew enough, even if it grew very quickly, they always seemed to die before it got them, but you, however, have no need to eat, we do it so we feel more human, but we don't need it,"

The younger Hunter turned, looked up the hole in the ceiling and jumped out, only leaning back momentarily to shout "Au revoir," then disappeared. Merle took one look at Damien who nodded,before picking up Ashrai and her equipment, then leaping out after his family. Soon, Ashrai would be considered family too, maybe they would be like Merle and Xavier... Maybe she would hate him for it.


	9. Chapter 9

**I offer yet more apologies, I have another fic thats really hot right now and I have to keep up with it :D And I'm just back to school, meaning I have almost no free time anymore. This chapter jumps about POV's a bit. With that, back to Damien and Ashrai :D Thanks for persevering with me...**

_**For those who have forgotten: Ashrai was captured and tortured by Damien's old Sergeant-turned-Hunter Sarge, who Damien tracked to a shack out in the swampland. Sarge had bitten Ashrai over and over, then killed her by ripping her throat out. Damien, Merle and Half-Face (Xavier) came to the rescue, but it was too late. Xavier put bamboo underneath a table with Sarge strapped to it, for the bamboo to grow up ad through the table. Ashrai, is dead, but in the process of joining the undead...**_

Damien was crouched next to the bed in his nest, anxiously watching the body settled underneath the covers. Ashrai looked exactly what it was; almost dead. There was the faintest thrum of a weak heartbeat as the Green flu destroyed her cells, mutating her into something that it just want supposed to be. Although, Damien thought, looking at the bare skin he could see - her arms, her chest and one leg - she would make a wonderful Hunter. Her body was lithe and muscled, and he was sure she would leaping and hunting beside him in no time, with Merle and Half-Face in tow. They would splash in the river with the other Hunters and torment the commons by leaping and landing on top of them, sending them crashing to the ground. Merle and Ashrai's pups would play together, their tiny bodies rolling around him... Far too early to think about pups and the likes. Ashrai might not forgive him for bringing her into his world and causing her all the pain and fright that he had. No, he had to wonder if he'd survive when she woke from her slumber. Maybe she would love him when she woke up and insist on being with him, or maybe she'd just be terrified by all the new senses that she would have, nothing too dramatic, but her eyes would be far too sensitive to the sunlight, thats what the hoods were for, protecting their delicate vision. Her hearing would be a bit better, and her sense of smell would be brilliant, like a dog.

Standing, he walked to his drawers, pulling out one of his spare sweatshirts, a dark grey - almost black - coloured jumper that would be just the right size for her, maybe a little baggy around her arms, since she wasn't nearly as muscled as he was. There was picture of a leopard on the front of the hoodie, lazing on a tree branch, one huge paw hanging down and its head resting on the other. That was what Ashrai would be like as a Hunter, a big cat; they may look pretty, but they have a set of claws on them. Damien whipped around at a sound from the bed, Ashrai was groaning in her sleep, which meant that she was getting better, but her face still looked gaunt and pale, her eyes almost sunken into her face. Even if that would be healed as she slept, it still hurt Damien's infected heart to see his proud huntress looking so pathetic and weak. He hoped that she would sit up any second, grinning at his and shouting, "fooled you!" But he knew he had no such luck. Brushing back a piece of fiery hair, he sighed watching her eyes flicker underneath her eyelids, as if they were looking for an unseen danger, searching in that black expanse of her mind for the one who tortured her. Maybe she would wake and recognise his scent, then not attack, but he doubted that, she was close to waking now and he could smell the fear wafting off her body, sweet and salty at the same time.

"Damien!" Merle yelled from downstairs, startling him from his daydream, "Half-face says there's a tank on the way, keep quiet!"

Tanks were bad news, if they heard them, they might think it was survivors and bust into the house. His nest wouldn't be safe anymore, then they would have to move Ashrai and cause her more discomfort than she was already feeling. Damien knew it didn't hurt, but he knew the discomfort of being able to feel every single muscle in your body rolling and bunching in ways that human muscles just shouldn't have been able to, to feel the raw strength and power when you pounced from a high building to land without injury. It was probably the closest the infected could get to flying without growing wings. He growled, a short, weary noise and gazed upon Ashrai's body as it twitched away from the sound, her body was reawakening itself from the sort-of coma it had shut itself into. He could smell the infected smell from her now, and she didn't smell like prey anymore, instead, she smelled like _family_, _safe, friend_. The primitive, animal part of his brain wanted to take her up against the wall, multiple times until neither could stand, mark her as his, imbed himself so deep into her that she would never forget who she belonged to. The rest of his brain - the human part - insisted that would be a very bad idea, especially if she didn't consent to it. He wanted her to come to him willingly, not out of some primal urge.

The tank was approaching, he could hear the thundering footsteps past the moans and whines of other infected, the crazed chuckling as a jockey skipped by or coughs as a smoker surveyed from a nearby rooftop. This was the world that Ashrai was going to join, he could only hope that she made the best of it.

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I was dead. That was my first thought. My second was; my eyes hurt like a bitch. Truthfully, I could feel sunlight pouring onto them like acid, and it _hurt_. I wanted to whimper in pain, to lash out at the rays, but that just wasn't something a human would do, no, but then, I wasn't human anymore. Sarge, he had bitten me... Then torn my throat out, all I could say was ' Hooray for zombie healing.' There was no more pain, not anymore, so either I had been saved, or I had reached that point where you just aren't conscious anymore, although the former seemed more likely. Damien just couldn't let me go, could he? Had I passed the point of simply being something edible, I hoped I had, because, in some sick, twisted way, I did like him, even if he was just another zombie. Unless... He had planned of of this, the getting kidnapped, the biting, just so I'd be the same as him. Did he think I would be his zombie bitch when I was the same as him? Not gonna happen. Something inside he growled, a deep rumbling snarl that vibrated inside me, although I wasn't sure if the sound actually spilled from my throat or if I was just imagining it. God, I hoped I was, because that sound should _never_ be heard from a human throat, it was a noise I had heard a hundred, maybe a thousand times as I roamed the streets, the noise of an angry Hunter, just as they were about to leap on you and tear your throat out. A choked laugh followed the growl, ending in a pathetic whimper, a sound that I hated more than anything; I sounded defeated, but there was no chance that was going to happen. I may be a zombie - a Hunter - but I was still _me, Ashrai._ I was just a bit faster, stronger, durable... _And dead_, something inside me said, but I pushed it aside. Damien was warm, his body temperature higher than mine and his heartbeat was strong and thundering in his chest.

A hand caressed my face, long claws trailing lightly over the skin, catching on my cheek and I could feel rivulets of blood streaming down the skin, catching every nerve on the way down. My whole body felt hypersensitive, like a bomb waiting to go off, the timer was counting until I could open my new eyes and feel the world differently. Dampness laved over my cheek and it took me a second to realise that someone - probably Damien - was licking the blood off. His tongue was gentle, but had that roughness that a cat's tongue has, like fine sand-paper sliding over your skin; not uncomfortable, just odd. I tried to say his name, but I don't think it came out at all; there was simply no noise. Now I know how coma patients felt, to be trapped inside your own body, inside your mind - feeling everything on the outside, but being unable to respond to the sensations, totally at everyone's mercy. It took me a minute to realise that Damien was speaking, his lovely voice flowing over me, a wonderful sound now that my senses were altered.

"Ashrai, can you hear me? Hah, I always wanted to have you at my mercy, but this isn't quite what I hoped for," He laughed humorlessly, "You seem so weak... So... Helpless. It would be wrong of me to attack you now when you can't fight back. However much I don't usually give a crap for humans... You.." He stopped and went silent for a moment, not even breathing, "There's a tank coming, if you can hear me, do not move, do not make a sound. I can only save you from so many things," With that, I felt the soft press of lips on my forehead then the almost silent footsteps that indicated he was leaving.

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She had twitched... It was progress although not much, Damien thought, sparing one last look at the woman on his bed, her chest rising and falling shallowly as she drew in her breath. The tank was coming and he prayed that she would stay like that until the danger was passed, then she could freak out at him all she liked, maybe he'd even let her hit him for not getting there sooner. The Hunter snickered, nah, he wouldn't allow that, but his Hunter side wanted to roll about his nest with her, playing until they forgot everything else; playing sounded good. Merle and Half-Face were lying on the couch, clearly trying to suck each other's tongues out of their mouths; Damien was no prude, but he certainly didn't want to watch his sister make out with her mate on the couch, especially since the woman he wanted to be his was upstairs comatose on his bed.

"Tank?" He questioned quietly, watching Merle pull away from Xavier and cross her arms over his chest, glancing up at him.

"I can hear it, just outside now, it's going slowly, can probably smell her upstairs," She muttered under her breath, knowing that Damien could hear her perfectly. He nodded in reply, directing his gaze out the front window, only to be confronted with the brute itself staring intently in at them, tongue lolling out of its mouth.

"Don't. Move," He growled, freezing every one of his muscles and staring back at the tank, who just continued to watch them. After a moment, it grunted then left, thundering down the street after something or another that had caught it's attention; unlucky for that. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Hunters all went back to doing something, Damien went back upstairs, hoping to whatever God there was that Ashrai would be awake now. Merle and Xavier simply relaxed on the couch, dozing in the calmness after the tense moments that the tank was there for.

"Xavier, I hope she's okay with this, Damien is getting far too attached to her for her to run off again," The little hunter murmured against his chest, before he looked down - damaged eye rolling loosely in its socket - and smiled; a loving smile that jerked at the scars on his face into a gruesome scowl. Merle grinned back, stroking a hand down the ravaged skin, wistfully wishing that she could have read his mind there.

"I know," He replied simply, cuddling her into his chest, "Tough little Damien, dominant hunter of the pack, ladies man for as long as I can remember, has finally met his match. She'll have him hen-pecked in no time at all, maybe she'll even get him to cut his blasted hair," They both laughed heartily as a loud yowl was heard from upstairs. Damien's hair was his pride and joy, but even Samson was powerless to Delilah.

**If you don't get the last bit, look up the story of Samson and Delilah ;) I'll have a longer chapter up soon, when Ashrai wakes up! Just wondering, but how many would like a M- rated scene for either MerlexXavier or DamienxAshrai? I was going to include it, but the story seems to be flowing okay at the moment.**

**Thanks guys and girls!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry guys :( I'm back to school now and its been a bit of a pain in the arse with loads of homework and that, so I've not had time to update, many apologies on my behalf. Now... The awakening... Short chapter and really just a filler before Ashrai goes to Hunter training one-oh-one :D**

I could feel the virus in my body. I didn't hurt, or, at least didn't hurt much; although I was still recovering from torture at the hands of that wicked Hunter. Speaking of hands... There was a pair of them drifting softly up and down my arms in a light caress, nails scratching lightly on each downstroke. It was Damien, my sense of smell was returning to me and I could smell him over the tangs of blood and death, like a citrus kind of scent, one that I wanted to rub myself all over just so I could smell like him. There was a musky stench from under the bed - so I guessed I was in Damien's room, on his bed, since the smell was under me. There was a faint whiff of other Hunters, one clean, flowery odour and the other smelled heavily of blood. Something in my brain that was no longer human told me the cleaner one was female, but the scents were so entwined with each other, I couldn't tell; only trust my instincts. I had a feeling I would be doing that a lot until I settled into life as one of the living dead, or undead, or... You get the point. Feeling was coming back to my fingertips, although they stubbornly refused to move, no matter how much I focussed on getting them to twitch for me, they remained unmoving. That also meant that I could feel whatever they were touching; one was on the bed sheet next to me, the soft material felt wonderful on my deprived senses, but the other was being lightly held by a solid but surprisingly soft hand, which I took to be Damien's. He wasn't so hot now, not since my body temperature began running on par with his.

I could smell his heat though, so he was closer than I guessed; no doubt I would wake up with the line of his body pressed down my back, just as I had awoken before, but it was getting slightly tiresome now. The other hand halted for a minute in its ministrations and he squeezed with the one holding mine.

"Ashrai? Can you hear me?" He spoke quietly, as if he hadn't wanted anyone else to hear. I - of course - remained silent, even though I wanted to scream and shout at him for being such an idiot and leaving me alone, even if I had wanted him to at the time. Truth was, I was the same as him now; there would be no getting away, after all, someone needed to teach me all their neat, little tricks. Trying to give his hand a squeeze back, I failed miserably, probably only managing the tiniest movement of muscle in my pinky finger, but even Damien felt that. He was gone in a blast of cool air against my cheek, like he had teleported away from me and I could hear him talking to the other two Hunters downstairs, chiding them about something along the lines of 'First my bed and now the couch?!' I didn't really want to know... Then he began something else as I heard the slight rustle of clothes being straightened out and fixed, now I knew what had happened... I could only make out part of what the discussion was, but the overall subject seemed to be me waking up, wonderful, but they didn't say when I would be up off this dreadful bed. I had the most horrible cramps in my thighs and calves as they screamed to be moved instead of being stuck, paralysed in this position.

After some shouting and thundering up the stairs, I could feel the heat off of three bodies now, pressing against me on every side. My hand was lifted - presumably by Damien - and he began speaking in my ear again, his warm breath whispering against my skin and I twitched involuntarily, my hand muscles contracting.

"See!" He cried, startling me enough to make me give a more violent shiver, "Oops, sorry, love." Love? Great, a pet name now that I was a little Hunter that he could call to heel. I tried to argue but my brain just wouldn't process the command to open my freaking mouth and give that man hell for assuming I was going to fall into his stalker arms swooning. No sir-ee. He continued before I could really get into the argument that would play out in my head, "Told you, she'll wake up soon and then I can show her the ropes! She'll make a magnificent hunter, I just know it," Turns out, Damien was the only one excited about that. I wasn't, or not _as_ excited anyway, but what was the appropriate level of happiness for being something that supposedly eats brains and flesh. True, they didn't do that... When some of my old group had been bitten, it had been more of a hit-and-run kind of thing, so much for zombies being stupid, they clearly knew we had guns, and had split us up one by one until it was only me left, crouching in the corner of a safe house, praying that they wouldn't find me. Look how that turned out. Here I was getting comforted by a hunter as I made the transformation into my new life, just another day in my life.

"Damien, bro, calm down, I can't imagine she's going to be half as excited about this as you are," a feminine voice said, and it was a lovely voice, like a glass bell tinkling compared to Damien's deep voice.

"Maybe not, but you take what you get, don't you." There was a world-weary sigh from him, "She's just going to have to learn, she can scream at me later for not getting there quick enough to save her," He truly blamed himself for what had happened? I was starting to warm up to the idea of swooning into his arms now.

"Hey, not your fault, man," A more familiar voice said and I could remember it from the safe house... That big brute of a Hunter who had scared me in my sleep. Although he probably wouldn't harm me now, I still wanted away from him; my mind trying desperately to get my body to move, to flinch away from that voice, but the most I could do was grip Damien's hand with the faintest squeeze.

"Xavier, speak again," Damien commanded and I knew he had felt it, when the other male asked 'Why?' in a confused tone, I struggled again. It was pointless, but that inhuman part of me was frightened, and it really isn't good if the predator is scared, it's not a natural feeling to be scared of your own kind and I gave it a kind of mental slap, which silenced it immediately. Clearly, Damien knew him from the use of his name, therefore, he wasn't a threat - not much of one anyway.

"She's scared of you, I can smell it in the air, got worse when you spoke there," That from the female, followed by a feral growl from Xavier, which was then followed by tiny snarl trickling from the back of my throat. It hurt to do it, my throat was so dry, but it felt good to know I could threaten him, even if I couldn't follow up on the threat. There was more hustling and chatter when I did it, but it had exhausted me. Slowly, so slowly, darkness consumed me and I could feel my breathing easing out into a longer rhythm.

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When I came to, my front was surrounded by warmth, instead of my back. What a lovely twist to waking up with Damien snuggled into me, though I had to admit that the other way felt much better. My Hunter brain said that it was because when he spooned me, he was protecting my vulnerable back, like a good mate, but when he was like this, both our backs were bared to whatever came into the room. Well, it didn't really say that, it was in simpler terms, more along the lines of: _,backbare_. So I pieced that into a vaguely human sounding statement and just agreed. He had clearly moved my arms so that they were curled between us - to keep them out of harms way, as was suggested by my Hunter. I think I'll call that part of me Fang, because it get's repetitive calling it 'The hunter part of me.' Sooo _Fang_ was apparently pleased by this and wanted to nuzzle in closer, even if my body wouldn't respond to it... Except it did. I cuddled in closer to the heater that was Damien, curling my legs up and pressing cold toes against his heated legs, making him jerk awake with a start, flying out of the bed with a snarl tearing from his throat. My eyes still wouldn't open on command, but that was okay. I was content to know that I could smell, hear and move slightly.

"Ashrai?"He growled, and from that sound I could tell he was closer again, but still on guard.

"Day... Damien," I managed, lips barely opening as I exhaled his name on my next breath. I suddenly found myself surrounded by warmth and knew that Damien was hugging me into him, holding me tight enough to make me splutter. He hastily apologised and lay me back down on the bed and wriggling back in next to me before pulling the heavy quilt up to cover us both. The weight of his gaze on me was undeniable, but I still couldn't make myself look and see him, but the moment Fang wanted to see him, my eyelids shot open.

It was far too bright, so much so, that it burned my eyes and I began tearing at them, more at Fangs command than mine; tearing at light that was assaulting me until two strong hands pinned my wrists to the bed. My eyes slammed shut again, my whole face crinkling up from the pain of their sensitivity.

"Now, now, wouldn't want you tearing those pretty eyes out before you get a chance to use them, eh?" Damien joked, allowing me to sit up - eyes still closed. "Don't worry, we'll fix that in a minute, stay right there," Before I had the chance to retort, he was gone and back, pulling something heavy and dark over my head, pushing my arms through it.

"Open" He said and I allowed my eyes to open, seeing in crystal clarity for the first time. I felt like Bella from Twilight, everything seemed so much clearer, but that wasn't the best thing; I could smell everything, and hear so much more too, I guess that was why Hunters wore hoodies, they didn't need to use their vision with their other senses heightened so much. My vision paled in comparison to the other ones. Looking down, I found myself in a dark coloured hoodie, a clean one by the looks and smells of it, before letting my eyes drift up slightly to see the hood overhanging my face. Only then did I look to Damien, sitting patiently in front of me, a huge grin on his face, and I realised that I could see into that dark place that usually surrounded his face now, his high cheekbones framed by rich red hair that flowed down either side of his face, down the back of his neck. I wondered absently how long it was then met his eyes, grey-blue and glittering in the harsh sunlight that shone through the windows. How long had I been sleeping? Cocking my head, I allowed myself to really gaze at Damien, I could feel the need to swoon coming, but I wasn't ready to give in yet, although the temptation was definitely there. Damien clambered off the bed with not an ounce of grace, then turned to face me, holding one clawed hand out.

"M'lady," He said, gesturing grandly and I allowed myself to take his hand, noting the claws that had begun to grow on mine, short, but sharp. Pulling me out of bed, Fang began growling harshly at me, _downclawsnotstand. _But I ignored it, staying firmly on two feet, even if the muscles felt strange and pulled in this position. I glared at my legs with hatred, I hadn't felt this uncomfortable since I had growing pains as a teenager.

"Your muscle will have shifted around a bit," Damien informed me with a chuckle, "You'll get used to it, you can crawl if you like,"

I ignored him, instead, waddling over to the door and opening it. I came into this room as Ashrai, the survivor and immune, now I was leaving it as Ashrai, Hunter and infected.


	11. Becoming a Hunter

**AHHHH! I'm back, babeh! I've been away for a while for lack of motivation to continue this - read, I couldn't be arsed - but persistent nagging from my dear ginger friend, has managed to bring me out of writers block. I thank God that she didn't try to hit me with anything... I also apologise profusely to my reviewer, **_**keith1887**_** who has commented the whole way and helped with motivation. I thank every else of course for their kind comments and reviews. Joobie, my dear, you have full permission to hit me for every time I said I would write this then didn't bother. I even included you like I said I would, as a jockey, with the 'cute' hands :D**

"Jesus, Ashrai," Merle growled at me, shaking her head as she plopped onto the tarmac of the road, "It's not that flipping difficult, I'm asking you to pounce on a Boomer, not a fly."

This was the third hour I had been out training, and so far, I would have made a better watermelon for all the good it was doing me. At least they moved in the direction you pushed them. So far, Merle had tried to push me off the roof to show me that I would land quite safely without any damage to my newly infected leg muscles, but I never believed her - just something tickling my brain that said 'yeah, right and I ice-skated in hell last weekend.' It ended up that my feet caught on the edge of the slating and I leaped, not down, but straight up into the air about ten feet only to slip on landing and come crashing down onto the road below. On my ass. So much for landing on my feet. After that, I had been directed to a Boomer, standing patiently on the other roof, and ordered to pounce across and land on him, but, alas, I had misjudged and ended up crashing through a window on the other side and cutting my arm open on the glass. End of training that day.

Sighing deeply, I slumped onto Damien's bed, where I had been bunking, and thought through my first week as an infected. One, I couldn't pounce, oh sure, I had the power in my legs to do so, but I always seemed to get everything about it wrong, constantly taking off with too powerful or weak a bounce, or simply pushing too hard with one foot and spinning in the air only to land heavily on some part of my body that had already been bruised and battered. I was a useless Hunter, and I still wondered sometimes why they kept me around; if they had left, I would never be able to follow them, I simply couldn't.

"I'm useless," I groaned, pulling a pillow over my face and screeching into it, hearing the cries of several of the Hunter pack who were down in that warehouse by the water-front. Some were worried, which I took to be Merle and Xavier, who had went out to socialise and see some of Sherry's new pups. I knew Hunters were like wolves with pregnancy, but I never realised quite how animal they were. She had been pregnant for a grand total of seventy days, a mere two and a half months from what I'd been told, and had just had the pups a few days after I joined the leagues of undead. They were pitiful little creatures, three of them; covered in a soft fluffy coat by the looks of it, like they were born with their jumpers on. Otherwise, they looked quite human, with six huge blue eyes gazing up at me with wonder, I gazed back, meeting those shiny cerulean eyes and lifting one into my arms. She could have sat comfortably in the palm in one of Damien's large hands, with room to spare. I had sat and cooed at the small figure for nearly half an hour, giggling like a child whenever a smile would grace her small face, tiny pointed teeth already breaking through the delicate pink gums.

One cry was that of rage, Liara. Apparently, since I had been saved by Damien, she had the idea that we were married to each other, joined at the hip. But she didn't realise how wrong she was; Damien and I were in a comfortable... Relationship? No we were not in any form of relationship, but we spent more time with each other than we did with anyone else. Merle had insisted I find some friends, but that was difficult in a world where we seemed divided into groups, and your group was like distant relatives to you, you knew they were there for you, but you didn't know them very well. Liara had never seemed to have forgiven me for 'stealing' something that was never hers to begin with, so if I was on fire and she had a bucket of water, she'd drink the water.

"Ash!" I heard the cry from downstairs, "ASSHHHH!" Wonderful. More training to follow. Pulling myself off of the soft duvet, I trudged down the stairs and into the living room where my three closest friends were cramped on the couch, the three members of my Hunter family. Merle grinned at me like a crazed woman, her head resting lightly on the shoulder of her mate, Xavier. I no longer called him half-face, since I felt that you shouldn't really call family by a name meant as an insult. The scarred side of his face was pulled up into a scowl, but since the whole part was smiling as widely as Merle, I knew that he was happy. Damien looked totally indifferent, his face a calm mask, but underneath was joy. I could smell a subtle change in Merle and knew almost instantly what I was about to be told.

"Oh my God!" I yelped lunging towards her, only to be caught half-way by Damien, who had moved from his seat like a bolt of dark lightning and scooping me into his arms. He chucked me lightly under the chin as he set me back down on my feet.

"She's delicate now, be careful," He winked, his deep voice rumbling with happiness as he pulled me into a hug which I stiffly returned. My Hunter side - Fang - didn't like the close contact, he wasn't my mate so he had no right to be this close to me and a warning growl trickled out of my throat. Damien frowned, his grey eyes meeting my own spring-grass green ones as he backed off. Merle stood up quickly and embraced me warmly, then kissed my cheek.

"I bet they'll be cuter than Sherry's little ones, They would have to be with parents like you two," I joked, lightly punching Xavier's muscular arm.

"Hey, quit hitting on my man," Merle growled playfully, catching my hand and dragging me back to Damien. "Take her out training, Xavier and I need to... Celebrate," Her ebony eyebrows wiggled and I knew instantly that I didn't want to be part of this celebration, in fact more of _Hunter one-oh-one_ sounded brilliant. Damien all but threw me straight out of the door, bounding out behind me, slamming the door then taking off up to the rooftops of the house across the street. This was the one thing I had mastered so far, as I leaped onto the wall, claws catching in the slightest of grooves in the brick, my feet almost sticking to the wall as I clambered up, somewhat ungracefully as I brought dust raining down from the gouges carved out by sharp claws. With a smile on my face, I perched next to Damien, settling back n my haunches to enjoy the view and scent of the fresh air. I could see the various colours of the different clothing of the commons, the sky was just beginning to turn dark, the velvet blanket of night sweeping over to dominate the pale blue streaked with vivid crimson and ambers. Damien's breath came out in a puff of condensed air, a sure sign that winter was well on it's way, but we never felt a thing, with the incredibly high body temperature that we both ran. Nevertheless, I huddled into him and impulsively, his arm wrapping around my waist and drawing me closer. Fang was howling to push him away but I shoved that part of me roughly aside. I buried my head into the warm pulse of his throat and sighed, unsure of whether it were a weary or happy sound. It lasted but a moment until he moved away, stood up and offered me a hand.

"We have work to do, love," It was almost a whine as I took the offered hand and stood up to begin my lesson. It was odd to look him in the eye, even though I knew he stood at his full height beside me; however, I soon learned what it meant to be dominant in our life, with the lower ranking individuals bowing to the whim of the superiors.I wanted to, so badly, to abase myself before this proud creature, no longer my friend, but an alpha male showing his status. His chest seemed to be constantly puffed and he strutted and slunk like he was the king of the entire city. Perhaps, in his own mind, he was.

"I want you to leap," He ordered, pointing across the street to the roof of our nest, "To there," It was the longest jump I had ever been asked to do and I looked at it sceptically.

"But, Damien..." I began, but was cut off by a swift back-hand to the cheek, claws biting into the flesh and drawing rivulets of blood. It was a harsh reminder of the pecking order in which I lay. When I looked up at Damien, horror filled his eyes, and he dropped to his knees and licking my face - it stung, but he was apologising in the most basic, feral way he could, by cleaning the wounds. He was tending to me as any other would to a friend, but I drew in a quivering breath as that hot tongue grazed over my skin and washed away the coppery liquid.

"Sorry, just try it, okay?" I nodded with tears in my eyes from the sharpness of the pain, turning to the jump ahead of me. I bunched my legs underneath, leaned forward onto my hands, then shoved my feet into the roofing, propelling myself through the air. I had misjudged yet again and hit the wall with a thud, only just managing to grip onto a window ledge. Scrambling for a foot hold, I pounced over onto the relative flatness of a balcony to my right, landing clumsily before my face met the ground. Seconds later, I was pulled up, by Damien, and held against the wall while he inspected any injuries I may have had, I was sore, that was about it. He laved at my chin and the tip of my nose until I caught a cheeky smirk and felt his tongue probe at my lips, pushing him aside and laughing.

"I just can't get it right," I pouted, crossing my arms. "I can't get the trajectory of the jump right, I keep pushing too hard or too soft, then landing wrongly,"

Damien let out a low chuckle, tilting his head adorably so that the scarlet of his fringe cascaded over his eyes and hid them from view under the hood. Only recently had I discovered that his hair was so long that it flowed all the way down his back in a plait that was doubled back on it's self to keep it out of the road. I had hours of fun combing out the thick blood-red wave after he had showered one night, and we bonded as I harshly jerked tugs out with my fingertips until he complained that I was going to lop it all off. Needless to say, he never let me do it again.

"You're thinking to hard, Ash, just do what comes naturally," He strolled closer, swaying his hips until he raised his chin to rest it on my shoulder, breath tickling my ear. Fang was banging in it's cage, roaring and battering around, begging me to set it free. He smelled of blood, my blood, but still deliciously fresh blood, but I held back as he whispered quietly, "Let the beast out, I know it's there," Then he was gone, faster than I would have thought possible. I guess for such a small guy, he must have had other things going for him to reach the top like he did. Just as he asked, I tentatively let Fang out of it's cage, well, more like I unlocked it then ran as it burst out, caught the scent of the fleeing Damien then charged.

Before I knew it, I was flying. Hands caught onto holds that I thought impossible - the tiniest cracks in piping, chips out of cement between bricks - legs pumped against the hardness of walls and bouncing again as I thundered through the city chasing the scent. Everything streamed by my eyes, but I still caught every single detail. I felt a multitude of textures pass beneath me; brick, tarmac, wood, mud then grass. The grass was my favourite, the sponginess gave me an extra spring when I landed, throwing me into the next leap, as if it wanted me to go faster and faster. Raising my head, I yipped in excitement... And crashed into something fleshy. For a moment I was gazing up at the stars that had overtaken the skies, then came the demonic laughter of a jockey. Whirling back onto my feet, I seen the small creature with it's hunched back bouncing around beside me. Long red hair brushed over it's shoulders and down it' back, natural ginger showing at the roots and giving the appearance of it glimmering in the moonlight. It's eyes were light blue with the strangest explosion of a shade darker around it's pupils, like someone had poked it until something had popped and bled out into the iris. The next thing I noticed was that it was female, with a dark hoodie on with a picture of some odd greenish-coloured alien on it that seemed to have large pink gills on his cheeks. The words '_Killing is an art' _printed underneath the pictures. She wore tattered jeans underneath with white converse. The same character from the jumper was inked onto the side of one shoe, clearly a home design but brilliant none-the-less, and another male on the other shoe. What was she?

She cackled once again before leaping onto my shoulders, pulling my hood down and burying long fingered hands in my hair, pulling at the strands.

"Hey look!" She cried, leaning down to look me in the face, a spattering of freckles twisting and writhing as she pulled the remains of her mouth into a smile, "Ima humpin ya head!" She began hooting and howling with laughter as she jumped off, prancing across the grass only to trip and roll onto her back. She pointed at the sky, clearly at some kind of constellation then twisted her hand, gazing intently at the digits.

"Aren't my hands adorable?" She asked, meeting my eyes and bursting into another fit of giggles, then came the baby voice, "Aren't they just so cuteee,"

"Of course?" I said, wondering what on earth had made this creature this way. Insane, crazy, mad all came to mind. "I have to go, my, uh, friend is expecting me,"

The Jockey jumped up, pulled some paper with a scrawled number on it from her pocket and handed it to me, "I'm Jodie," She laughed, then took off back home chortling all the way. What. The actual. Fuck?

I continued on after my meeting with the strange little Jockey called Jodie and met up with Damien a few miles North of where I was. The minute he saw me, I was swept into a hug with butterfly kisses being placed all over my face, followed by a slobbery lick.

"You really did it, love," He grinned proudly, pulling me into another bear hug. Maybe I would fit into this place after all.


	12. New beginnings, new problems

**Ah, all my dears, it has been a while, has it not? There is no excuses I can give for taking this long, except that I was lazy... No, I take that back... BLAME HELLSING, BLAME ALUCARD! Blame your mothers pet goldfish! I'm back already! I apologise especially to Keith, who has been awesome the entire time I wrote this, to my dear Joobie, who called me a bitch for not updating earlier, to which I have proved her wrong - and not to forget the anonymous guest who commented on my hellsing fix, telling me to update this. I love you, random citizen! On with the show. Happy new year to all, all the best with your 2013. Follow me on twitter ' Alucards_Bitch' **

A week after the training, Damien and I were relaxing in the den, delighted at the peace and quiet brought about by Merle and Xavier leaving, no doubt out for a walk. The pair did that a lot these days, simply going out for a stroll, or a run - although that didn't happen as much anymore with Merle's pregnancy... Speaking of which, she was HUGE! I honestly hoped that, even though I loved kids, it wouldn't be a litter that she popped out when her time had come.

Without my noticing, Damien swung his lanky arm around my waist, pulling me closer and squeezing until I gave a loud grunt, pushing away from him. This was another problem that I seemed to be having to cope with more and more now: Damien was starting to become more touchy-feely with the onslaught of warmer weather. He was always following me, keeping me in his field of vision, even when I threw tantrums demanding what the hell he wanted, he stuck close by. One such occasion had been the previous night.

_We had all been in the living room of the den, laying in our respective sites that we were comfortable in - Xavier was on the largest couch, his long body stretched across the length of it, with Merle's tiny body perched on his, laying sideways to show the roundness that her stomach was becoming. Damien was on the smaller chair, legs spread wide with his feet on the floor, reclining like he was some kind of prince. I was nestled between his legs on the floor, resting against the bottom of the chair, when, suddenly, I was gripped by two powerful arms, then yanked up onto the chair, next to the male. Said arms then wrapped tightly around my midsection, clutching me to him like I was the only thing holding him to the earth. Damien's fiery hair fell over my face, tickling my nose and causing a sneeze to bubble up, but before I did sneeze, I swiped the offending lock of hair away from my face, glaring up at the Hunter with all the fury of a witch. His grey-blue eyes sparkled mischievously at me, glittering with a light that I had never seen before in their depths. I was about to become all philosophical about 'his eyes looked like stars' but I quickly changed my thoughts, diverting myself to a small stain of crusted blood around the collar of my jumper. Anything as to forget about Damien beneath me, the firmness of his muscles, his wonderful scent, like the lemony scented car air freshened that used to drown out anything else before the infection came._

_ Anyway, he had just scooped me up like that and expected me to sit still. Pfft! Fat chance, mister, I thought to myself, gearing up for a struggle. Merle had shifted round, Xavier lifting his head with a lazy smirk to watch us with some interest. Turning back to look at Damien, I was irritated to find that he had taken the time to bury his nose in the crook of my neck, snuffling at the skin, nuzzling a rather sensitive spot until I raised my hand and slapped him. Hard. My palm stung from the sharp sting, the sound ringing through the building. Damien gazed down at me, eyes wide - trying to look innocent as I began to writhe on his lap, fighting for my freedom. My elbow connected with a hard stomach, my teeth sinking into the flesh of his arm, body jerking as I felt his grip loosen. Then, his training and experience with being the Beta of the pack of hunters kicked in and he flipped us, weight settling on me with the arm, currently in my mouth, pressing my head back into the cushion rather harshly. My breath choked out as he pushed down harder, the bones on my jaw groaning in protest. Claws scrabbled at his back, ripping away the material then tearing up his back, hot blood flowing down from the wounds. Damien said nothing but rumbled deep in his throat, purring, I recoiled in shock, he was... Enjoying it? Growling back my own displeasure, I felt him shove his hips hard into mine, grinding against me like a feral beast, his deadly teeth bared as if to scare to into submission. Before I knew it, he had been hauled off me by the scruff of his neck, held a foot off the ground, snarling and wriggling - by Xavier and I prayed to whatever gods were listening that they had been there to help when he took our 'scuffles' too far. Xavier turned his eyes to me - the loose eye rolling in the socket no longer causing me to gag - and judged how much damage had been caused. Not much to me, but there was blood flowing all down Damien's body, from both his cut up back, and the large chuck of flesh missing from his forearm. He didn't seem too bothered now, his fight leaving him as those wild eyes strayed to me, eyeing me hungrily. What was wrong with him? I had never seen him this bad in all the time I had known him!_

_ "Go for a run and cool down Damien," Merle had said, pushing her inflated body in the road, one claw resting on Xaviers lower back, "we'll explain to her what's going on,"_

_ With a final, defeated sigh, the male nodded his head before being dropped unceremoniously to the ground, where he fell to his hands and feet, slinking out of the door like a wolf with its tail between its legs. I watched as a bloody trail followed behind him as he disappeared, out into the darkness of night._

_ "Merle," I began, a dangerous lilt in my voice, confusion in my mind, "What's going on, he's never been like that before!" _

_ "I'm afraid we should have told you sooner," Merle sighed, her body sagging as she thought of the best way to explain..._

Mating season. That was what she had said. That we had bloody went into mating season and since I had no one to call mine, I had begun giving off pheromones that attracted males, hence the reason that Damien had been all over me, and still was. He had snuggled me into his chest now, his deep breathing signalling that he was, in fact, asleep. Lazy bastard that he was. Merles advice had been just to let him have his cuddling time, as it would help keep his inner beast in control and allow him to hold back from taking me viciously and against my will. She also told me that a couple of days into the season, when my scent was at its strongest, that was when Damien would smell delicious to me, delicious enough to eat... Female hunters were ferocious during this period, turning on any male who dared approach them, unless it was their mate. She had told me a hilarious story of the first time she had come into the season - which happened to be the worst of them all - she had savaged one of the males in the pack to the point where he had went from being a rather high ranking member, to cowering whenever a female approached him. I had laughed until she told me that I would be like that, then I had abruptly stopped, staring at her as if I were trying to see the truth in her, but she was totally serious. I didn't want to end up attacking either Damien or... Well, Xavier could take care of himself, but I would never forgive myself if I irreparably damaged the hunter below me, who was curled around my body like I was his favourite cuddly toy. His face was relaxed in his sleep, his mouth dropping open slightly to reveal his sharp teeth, a trail of saliva dribbling down the side of his face. He had taken his hood down, and I took the time to study his unfamiliar features. His eyebrows were clenched, as if he were in the midst of a nightmare and, on a whim, my hand strayed up to the crease between them, touching very lightly with the pad of my thumb, gently massaging the wrinkle out, his open mouth curling up at the corners. My middle finger strayed down his face, following the regal arch of his nose, down to his full lips. His breathing had changed now, his heartbeat picking up a pace and I traced the lightest touch across his lips, across his pouty bottom lips. A long, wet tongue snaked out and curled around my digit, those eyes opening the tiniest amount to reveal his pupils dilated to leave only a silvery ring surrounding them.

Before we could continue any further though, there was the most horrific howling sound from outside, then Xavier came charging in, lunging for me in such a fit of rage that I recoiled in a flash, almost merging into Damien as I backed away in fright. The male beside was immediately alert, jumping up in front of the infuriated Xavier, snarling, with his body crouched protectively in front of mine. Defending me from his own brother-in-law. In the wake of a more dominant male, Xavier stopped, his face contorted in fury.

"Let me pass, Damien, its her fault that they took Merle," he finished on a whine, his eyes tearing up as he dropped to his knees, "God... They took her, they took my mate, all because of her!" He pointed at me, his claws coated in drying blood.

"Why?" I questioned, peering around the small hunter to see the tank of a man on the ground, pounding his fists into the floor, " and who took her, Xavier?" I asked more confidently. How dare they take Merle! She was almost a sister to me, the family I no longer had. "We'll get her back, I swear my life on it."

"It.. It was Drew, the pack leader. He said he would reward anyone who found the unrated female and brought her to him, there isn't many nowadays," He looked up then, trails of wetness slithering down through the scarring on his cheek. "He said he wanted you, but he didn't want to go through Damien to have you, so he took her, he took Merle... I swear, if he has touched a hair on her head!"

I knew in that moment that I would do anything. I truly would do anything to save my dearest friend, anything to make sure that Xavier never looked this broken again... Anything to keep my family safe.

**Jeez... What is it with me and kidnappings... Anyway, let me know what you think and I won't take three months to update again! I've forgotten how much I enjoyed working on this. I must say though, unless I get some fresh material for the story line, it will be finishing soon... So send me your ideas, and what you would like to see in the fic, I'm open to anything :) please, Review! Thanks!**


	13. Fun times!

Hey guys, sorry if you were expecting the next chapter, rest assured its on its way, however, I wanted to ask this, would anyone do artwork of Lilith & Alucard or Damien & Ashrai or even Blaise in exchange for a one-shot fanfic? I always love to see how my readers see my characters and I'm getting bored just writing my WABN and trying to write Damien's Hunt too. Maybe this would give me the motivation to love my stuff again.

Thanks and I love you all,

DSH x


	14. Drew

**Hey guys, I have returned from my adventures to Hellsing, back to Left 4 Dead, at least, to write this chapter I have. Of course, I requested art in the last chapter, and people provided! I haven't received all the art for the fics I posted the note on yet, and I await patiently. I've only had one so far, but I absolutely love it!**

**breaking-bonesDOTdeviantartDOTcom/art/A-pile-of-Hu nters-377731296?ga_submit_new=10%253A1371154783**

**If the link isn't above then it will be in my bio so please check it out. Thanks to the amazing Breaking-Bones/ Stay Silver for this :) it's adorable!**

** I also now have a facebook page! Wooo! Ego much? XD**

**wwwDOTfacebookDOTcom/groups/455947181161377/#**

**Keith, oorah! Well done on your entry to the marines and I am sorry not to have posted up anything new for you to read, but here it is... Better late than never I guess.**

* * *

That night, we all slept in the bedroom, curled up on the bed. Damien and I surrounded Xavier with the heat from our bodies, comforting him as he cried for his lost mate. Tears streamed down the huge hunters face, his body wracked by shudders of fresh pain and loss. However, he was not the only one - barely contained rage simmered in Damien and I instinctively cowered away from him, whining lowly in fear when he lifted a claw. He winced as he noticed my terror until the hand laid on my cheek, thumb stroking gently across my cheek. He was furious that his sister had been taken, but I could tell that he was also worried for me, the one who had attracted the attention of the lead male, Drew. Drew had sought out the scent of an unmated female - me - and was drawn to try and claim me, taking Merle to use the woman for blackmail. It just happened to be that Merle was carrying Xaviers pups as well, thus putting even more strain on us to get her back as she was due in a mere week or two.

Damien's breath blew out in a low growl and he retracted his hand, sensing my distress at his anger and the loss of my pack-mate gone sister. Merle was an oddity among the Green Flu ridden world; kind, loving and gentle, but brutally ferocious when the situation called for it. She had become more laid back in her pregnancy, knowing that it was far too easy to lose the pups if she was continually mixed up in fights. I whined loudly as I wondered how many she had lost to the stress of being taken, to which Xavier echoed my whine, burying his head in my throat, seeking the comforting scent of his group. I had sworn to him earlier when he had burst in the door, screaming out for his mate, that I would save her, somehow recover her from Drew. Trouble was, I had no idea how to do this, not on my own anyway. Damien had suggested that I simply mate with him so Drew couldn't take me, but that began a short fight between him and Xavier, which neither came out unscarred from.

Now, we snuggled closer, Xavier's breathing had evened out to deep draws, letting me know that he was finally asleep. Damien purred from the other side of Xavier's huge body, so I purred back, letting him know that I was still awake. With the utmost care, we extracted ourselves from the bed, leaving the male tucked into the duvet of the bed, whimpering under his breath. We escaped downstairs, Damien dropping onto the couch and huffing loudly, all the anger bleeding out of him only to be replaced by an overwhelming feeling of defeat. I wanted to hug him, to pride the same comfort for him as I had for Xavier, but Fang, my inner hunter protested fiercely at being in close proximity with him. Snarling at my inner beast, I approached Damien, sliding onto the couch next to him, curling into the warmth that his body provided. It was only when my face was pressed into his throat that I could smell the salty tang of tears from him. Deciding against words, I lifted my head and licked up his pain, feeling him relax beside me and cuddle into me as we both drifted off to sleep.

I was awoken from my dozing by the lack of heat next to me, blindly groping out for him, only to find the couch empty. My claws cut into the fabric and I scowled, drowsily opening my eyes to look out to the rest of the room, coming face to face with Xavier. His hand flew over my mouth before I could speak, raising a finger over his lips to tell me to be quiet before he hoisted me up over his shoulder, taking me out the back door. His feet flew across the ground as we raced away from the nest, the house becoming smaller and smaller as he distanced us from it. When we were - what I assumed - a safe distance, he turned to me, eyes predatory. Gulping, I dropped into a defensive stance, but the male made no move to attack.

"Drew is at the house," he stated simply, a growl in his voice. Eyes shifting wildly, I watched his great shoulders squaring up, chest puffing in a very distinctive display of anger. He was furious that the one who took his mate was there, yet he could do nothing. He was too far down in the groups pecking order to do anything without being attacked by anyone else. The only one who would have a chance of taking out Drew would be the second-in-command... Damien. I tried to leap back towards the nest, fearing for my pack-mate, but was stopped with an iron grip around the ankle, dragging me backwards whilst gravity mushed my face into the dirt, breaking my nose. I howled out in pain as the bone cracked and blood spewed forth down my face, turning to a furious Xavier with bared teeth.

"Let me go, I need to make sure he's alright!" I cried, trying to escape the larger hunter, but his grip tightened enough to make me wince.

"Noooo," He hissed lowly, baring his teeth in return, "If you go after him, he'll be too busy looking after you to look after himself. He didn't reach that level of dominance with his looks, you know." There was truth in his words and I reluctantly covered my teeth once more, butting my head into Xavier's chest, feeling the strong heartbeat beneath. It helped ease my fear, but it wasn't the slower beat of Damien's heart, the scent was not the earthy, bloody scent of Damien, the muscles softer, not angled enough, so I drew away, I'd find no safety in his arms.

"I understand," I muttered softly, but could not help but gaze back towards our nest, longing to be back with Damien, who could provide me with the safety that I needed. The warmth and contact that I needed. For the first time, Fang did not snarl and fight back against the thought of Damien, rather sighed in dejection, slumping, almost giving permission to go to him, which so show overjoyed me. I did like the thought of going back to Damien and his cheeky, carefree nature, but it would not bode well for either of us. Perhaps... Maybe after we saved Merle... I would consider him, maybe we would have adorable pups too, little babies with fuzzy skin and grey eyes, with black hair. I smiled softly at the thought when a wild roar and shriek disrupted my thoughts. The shriek had come from Damien.

Xavier had already started running, ready to defend his pack-brother, and I was running for the sake of saving the closest thing I had to love since Logan. The house loomed, approaching as fast as it had faded when we had escaped, my legs burned from exertion, pushing to go faster, overtaking Xavier as my pounces launched me to the roof of the nest, over the top, then - without thinking - I leaped from the roof to land in front of Damien. The males were covered in blood, claws dripping the crimson liquid as they faced each other. I snarled at the much larger hunter whilst Xavier prowled the edges of the fighting ground, letting out a mixture of low growls and mournful howls. Drew was a typical surfer boy looker. Blonde hair to his chin, bright, flaring blue eyes and stubble around his chin. He eyed me hungrily, smelling the scent of an unmated female in the mating season, his nostril flared and Damien took the momentary lapse in concentration to lunge at the other male, locking teeth deep into his arm, claws raking into him. Drew reacted quickly, lurching away from The pestilence, but Damien held fast, jerking his head from side to side, trying to break the limb in his maw. There was a satisfying crunch of bone and Drew howled, lifting the arm from the ground, yet Damien continue to hold on and I feared that he would rip the arm off. Unfortunately, the blonde male managed to claw him off, leaving parallel gouges down Damien's face, which spurred me into action. Tackling the larger male, he struggled to hold me back with his remaining arm whilst my jaws snapped at his face, letting out grunts as the arm began to bend under my weight and force.

I vaguely recalled being kicked off of him and tossed out of the way by Xavier, but the most horrific part of the fight caused me to pass out. The last thing I seen before the blackness overwhelmed was Damien stumbling in exhaustion, and Drew going in for the kill. Teeth locked around Damien's throat, the blood mingling with his hair until neither could be told apart. Just as Xavier lifted me, I watched with horror as Drew's head jerked back, taking a chunk of flesh with it and sending Damien's body crumpling to the ground...


End file.
